


The Heartless DLC

by ink_asunder



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon's Dogma
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon's Dogma Spoilers, Ensemble Cast, Female Arisen - Freeform, Gen, Male Main Pawn - Freeform, Male Trevelyan Inquisitor, Mildly Altered Lore, No Romance, Pawn-Lore Friendly, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 82,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24123547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ink_asunder/pseuds/ink_asunder
Summary: The Inquisitor recruits two adventurers from Gransys. Marnie and Gale are worthy assets, so anything strange about them is dismissed as "foreign culture." However, it's later apparent that the two may not be as they appear, and Marnie may have more influence on the fate of Thedas than she initially let on. How will the Inquisition fare with an Arisen among their ranks?
Comments: 22
Kudos: 61





	1. Recruitment Quest: Foreign Aid

**Author's Note:**

> *'Tis*

Gale had never been inside a castle before. In Gransys, the only place up until now he could've called "home," Gale's people weren't allowed on castle grounds. And as for Gale's true world of origin, there were no castles to speak of, or at least none that he'd ever seen. But he and Marnie had learned, time and time again, there were still things and worlds beyond they had yet to see or comprehend. That's why they were here in Orlais.

After vanquishing the cult dedicated to the dragon that took Marnie's heart, Marnie and Gale—her constant companion—used their wealth and status to escape their country temporarily in favor of lands abroad. Ferelden and Orlais, specifically. 'Twas trouble brewing, Marnie had said, and she'd grown well into an attitude of seeking out that sort of thing eventually.

Marnie enjoyed the empress' ball in her own way. Socially engaging was only so possible to someone out of the loop of the current affairs of the court, but she had an appetite for fashion and fine foods that made the night bearable. Gale went as her escort, acting as her shadow and support as the metaphorical hornet's nest of nobles exposed them with every gaze. Even as wallflowers, they were out of their element. They were the finest warriors in Gransys, yet here at the ball, they were little more than eyesores.

Aristocrats from all over Orlais gathered and mingled. In truth, even if Marnie hadn't been too simple-minded for political affairs, she probably wouldn't care who these people were. Gransys was isolated from Thedas, politically disengaged save for instating peace treaties, and impossible to conquer due to the monsters there. It was a wonder how the people of Gransys even survived, but the land was undesirable enough that even the Qunari took the excuse to leave them be. Some thought the claims to be no more than campfire stories, but Gale and Marnie would soon be living proof that there was nothing truer than the eternal horror of their ugly, beloved country.

Most people pretended it wasn't even there. Yet despite how the Orlesians sneered, Marnie couldn't have been more proud.

"Those masks the Orlesians wear cover their faces," Gale noted, talkative yet unremarkable in his observations as he usually was.

"Yes," Marnie nodded. "'Tis a custom here."

"I can hardly make out their expression. And you humans make so many of them."

"Yes, I believe that's the point," Marnie said.

The pair were stood against the wall, waiting and watching for what would happen.

-

Inquisitor Maxwell Trevelyan started the morning by summoning a war council. His three advisers had finished various tasks and now waited to give their reports. Trevelyan decided to hear those reports and set them to work again before heading out for the next Inquisition expedition. Things hadn't been easy since losing Haven, but their new fortress was finally shaping up as a reputable headquarters for their operations against Corypheus.

"Marquis DuRellion was more than pleased with our efforts," Josephine recounted the results of making a memorial for Haven. "And here, it seemed to give our people some closure after the event."

"I'm glad for that much," Trevelyan nodded, then shifted his gaze to Cullen. "And what of the scouting mission in the Western Approach?"

Cullen glanced over Knight-Captain Rylen's report. "Well, it's barely livable, but they've set up a camp and are ready for your expedition, Inquisitor. However, there's one more thing before you head out..."

"Yes?" Trevelyan prompted.

"They met a traveler along the way—a knight from overseas. The traveler claimed to be from Gransys, left here of her own volition after completing a trade route to Val Royeaux. Sounded like she was interested in joining our cause."

"Gransys?" Josephine gave Cullen an incredulous look.

"She had the look," Cullen shrugged. "The armor, the banner, the accent."

"There _was_ a trade vessel docked in Val Royeaux not long ago," Leliana recalled. "I made note of it, but didn't think it would be relevant to us."

"Wait," Trevelyan cautioned. "Where's this, again? I don't remember anywhere called Gransys on any maps of Thedas."

"That's because it's not," Josephine was the first to explain. "Gransys is the closest country in Akadoria, a continent across the sea. One port runs a trade route to Thedas on occasion, but their country and the waters around it are allegedly too dangerous to make regular excursions. People rarely come in or out of the country, so it's all but closed. I'm surprised anyone's made contact after so long. The last successful voyage to the mainland must've been fifteen years ago, at least."

Trevelyan looked down at the map. He did see a straight of water that ran from the sea into Orlais, as well as several ports used by trade vessels. If the traveler had a horse, she could've reached the Western Approach in a week or two.

"About the traveler," Trevelyan looked at Cullen again. "You said she was interested. Is she on her way here?"

"No," Cullen shook his head. "She had business in the Western Approach, but if you find her while you're out there, you might have a word with her."

"Business in the Western Approach?" Trevelyan's eyebrows drew together. He turned to Leliana. "What else did your people see of the Gransian party?"

"The ship stayed for a few days, then left," Leliana replied. "It would take months, if not years, before they returned to the mainland. They wouldn't leave anyone behind unintentionally."

"I hope you're not suggesting what I think you are," Trevelyan said.

"I doubt they're spies," Josephine interjected diplomatically. "The Duke of Gransys has always been politically disengaged with Thedas."

"If they managed to get here this time, amid all the chaos, there's a possibility he's looking to start engaging," Leliana argued gently. "The vessel may've set out before the Breach ever opened. But we can never be too cautious with things as they are. We should connect with the traveler, if we can."

"I'll keep that in mind when I question the traveler," Trevelyan straightened. "Thank you all for your insight."

-

The Western Approach was miserable in any and every sense of the word. For company, the Inquisitor had brought Varric, the Iron Bull, and Dorian. Trevelyan would've liked to bring Cole or Solas along to get a more _familiar_ feel for the lay of the land, but the two of them were currently away on a mission to the Hinterlands researching some curious artifacts and structures the Inquisition had found there.

This was by far the most barren place Trevelyan had ever trekked. The dunes of sand were high, hot, and they scattered in the wind. Outcroppings of weathered rock and sandstone gave the desert character, and occasional, blessed shade. There were fewer gullies here than in the Forbidden Oasis, and, for a more important matter, much less water. They made sure they were well-stocked at the camp before setting off.

Scout Harding had no positive things to say about this place. Unpleasant weather, bandits on the prowl, a dragon, _sand_. She called it hell on earth, and right from the start, Trevelyan only agreed with her.

"What of the immigrant?" Trevelyan asked before they set out. "Cullen's men said they encountered someone from Gransys that had business here."

"There is a traveler like that skulking about," Harding said, but she said it so kindly. "I couldn't tell you what she's doing out here, though. She comes by every day or so, always making sure we've got ample supplies and water. The Gransians call their mounts elk, but I've never seen an elk like that before. Its coat is so red it nearly blends in with the sand."

"I see," Trevelyan nodded. "Thank you for your report. Any idea where they might be now?"

"Check the north side?" she suggested. "We'll hold them up here for you if they come back."

"Thanks again."

"Anytime, Inquisitor."

The party traveled north-east of the camp, following paths for the most part and recording landmarks as they went. When Dorian spotted a small creek (thankfully real this time), they followed it upstream. Trails of hart-like hoof prints came and went in the sand along the water, so Trevelyan took that as an indication that they were going in the right direction.

The flat sand around the creek became hard rock that rose above the level of the creek into a steep gully. The occasional brush dried up, and once the Inquisitor's party stood at the peak of the gully's brim, they could look upon a modest but obviously well-kept campsite. A fire pit and cooking spit, one tent, and a couple canvas barrels holding supplies were arranged in a loose circle. Among that, seven people, armed and dressed in random pieces of armor, ransacked the campsite in a rushed and careless manner.

"It doesn't look like they're supposed to be there," Dorian said.

"Bandits, most likely," Varric added. "Looks like they're raiding the camp."

"What gave them away?" Iron Bull asked. "The ransacking or the sneaking?"

"I don't think they'd all sleep in one tent," Dorian replied.

"Well, not with _that_ attitude they won't—"

An arrow suddenly darted through the campsite from the opposite side, knocking off the barrels that one of the bandits was searching. The bandits began to scatter and yell.

"Let's go!" Trevelyan ordered, before they could get away.

Trevelyan and Iron Bull drew their weapons, moving down into the valley, whilst Varric and Dorian stood well out of the way of the battle to cover them.

Amidst the clamor of metal and whistle of arrows, the Inquisitor could _feel_ the thunder of approaching hooves. Glancing away from battle for only a moment allowed him to catch a glimpse of a thin-legged but stocky elk with a coat as red as the sand they were walking on. The elk and its rider circled the site, loosing aimless arrows into the fray but distracting the bandits more than anything. Then the Inquisitor felt the uprising energy of unfamiliar magic surround them before the field was engulfed in flames.

Bright as they were, the fire was no hotter than a lukewarm cup of water, and Trevelyan knew what burning felt like. This was friendly fire, and not intended to harm them. Trevelyan ordered the others to disengage and get away from the assault all the same, and once back a significant distance, Trevelyan saw that whoever cast the spell had conjured a circuit of flame, and the bandits were soon reduced to ash.

"Dorian, did you—"

But Dorian looked just as confused as the rest of them. The four of them braced again when the elk approached them at a much more relaxed pace. Another person had joined the rider, trotting alongside the elk, and now that they were getting close, Trevelyan got a good look at them.

The elk didn't have antlers that spread into a crown with several points; instead, its antlers were more like horns pointed up and back from its skull. The saddle on its back was no more than a woven blanket with a strap under the belly. The elk stuttered to a stop and shook its head as the rider lowered a hand to pull the other person up onto the elk's back.

The first rider was rather androgynous, with short dark hair, olive skin, and short but rather built stature. She was clad in a set of leather armor of an obviously foreign manufacture under a dark cloak. The other person was taller, but thin as could be, pale, with hair only one shade lighter than the woman's and a severe expression as he appraised the strangers. Judging by his robes and staff, he was a mage. Trevelyan hadn't expected there to be two of them, let alone one mage.

"Is everyone alright?" the woman asked. Her voice was medium with an eloquent Gransian accent.

"Yes," Trevelyan spoke for the group. "And to your credit, you two may have had something to do with that."

The woman, oddly enough, looked sheepish. "I'm sorry. We've tried keeping the area clear, but bandits tend to loot our site when we're away."

"It happens. So, you're the Gransian immigrants, I take it?"

When she replied, her voice was lower, though not unfriendly. Just cautious and assertive.

"'Twould depend on who's asking."

"We're with the Inquisition," Trevelyan introduced. "A group of our forces said you might be interested in joining."

"Oh, for truth?!" she threw her leg over the elk's shoulders and slid down. "Well... Yes. Should you have us."

Trevelyan considered her, and once more the young man on the elk. She looked much shorter on the ground—maybe a head shorter than Trevelyan, at least.

"I wasn't aware there was more than one of you," Trevelyan admitted, glancing at the young man on the elk who diverted his gaze to his companion.

"This is my brother, Gale," the woman introduced, but she stood in front of him as if to shield him. "He's a healer, primarily, and he is well-disciplined. My name is Marnie Courbet. I use daggers, predominantly."

"He can do more than heal, that's for sure," Trevelyan grinned, trying to put her at ease.

"Yes. 'Tis good should he ever need defend himself. But he kept you four intact."

"I'm guessing you're the primary offense of this operation?"

"Yes. I get in the way, and Gale watches my back. We rarely are in larger groups, but I'm sure he'll adapt."

She only ever talked about him. Defensively, Trevelyan noted, and she couldn't be blamed. Were mages treated differently overseas?

"What exactly can you two contribute?"

"Bodies for work and battle both," Marnie replied. "I grew up in a fishing village afore taking up bow and blade. We have experience in scouting missions, collecting resources, culling the unwanted, from bandit to monster. And you've seen a bit of our work in combat yet. As long as it's not rubbing elbows with nobility, we're both apt."

"Not very politically engaged, are you?"

"No."

Trevelyan continued. "So either of you can join me in the field?"

"Either of us," Marnie confirmed. "But I prefer we stay together. I'll be fully responsible for him; if you need me and let him tag along, I'll make sure he pulls his own weight, I assure you."

"Two heads are better," Trevelyan agreed. That about settled it for him. There was only one other thing... "What do you have to say about it? Gale, was it?"

Trevelyan gently addressed the mage on the elk, who hadn't so much as audibly breathed during the conversation. Gale blinked and startled a little bit, like he hadn't been fully there until he was spoken to. He looked shyly at Marnie, unsure what to do. She narrowed her eyes momentarily, a subtlety that the others definitely caught.

"I... Yes. Whatever Marnie prefers." His voice was higher, with a more eloquent accent than Marnie. The difference was akin to one with a formal education next to one who never left their hometown. Were they truly related by blood?

"Well, then, that settles it," Trevelyan concluded. "Welcome to the Inquisition."

The anchor in his hand throbbed once, very slowly. He thought nothing of it. Perhaps the Veil was particularly thin here.

-

Night set quickly after that, and Marnie offered her campsite to the others. Rather than hike back to the Inquisition outpost in the dark, the Inquisitor accepted. The four of them set up their tents beside the one Marnie and Gale shared. The campsite was modest, but serviceable. Aside from the fire pit, they also had a jug of water Gale had filled from the creek.

They decided they'd stay the night and return to Skyhold in the morning. After a light meal around the campfire, Trevelyan turned in, intent on getting at least a little rest before taking first watch when the others went to bed. Iron Bull turned in as well, whilst Dorian went to the creek to clean up before bed. Only Varric, Gale, and Marnie remained by the fire. Gale lied down on his side and put his head in Marnie's lap, and she put up with it. She let her fingers find his hair and pick at the tangles in his locks as she stared at the dirt and listened to the unfamiliar whisper of wind over the dunes around them.

Varric watched the two in the silence for a moment. They seemed pretty comfortable out here all by themselves. They'd be a valuable addition to the Inquisition. On the other hand, their closeness bordered on clinging, Varric could already tell. Maybe they stayed unnaturally close to each other out of a natural trepidation of visiting a new, dangerous country. And if that were the case, the only way around that was trust. And Varric had a knack for maintaining morale.

"That's a nice elk," Varric glanced at the steed tethered by the camp. Marnie raised her head, her expression still vague with a hint of welcoming confusion. "I've never seen one like that around here before. Did you buy him when you landed?"

"We actually brought her from Gransys."

"Seriously?" Varric sounded incredulous.

"Yes. 'Twas hard getting her here in one piece, but I'm glad we did."

"Do they all ride those in Gransys? Or just the Duke's elite?"

"Mounts aren't common in Gransys," Marnie replied. "It took ages before they were able to breed one that could keep itself alive in the wilds. Now that monsters are moving back down from the mountains again, they're all but gone. Same as the people, I suppose. I couldn't let her suffer the same fate, not if we would be gone so long."

"So even Gransys is overrun with shit," Varric noted. "Good to know."

Marnie narrowed her eyes as Varric poked the fire indifferently.

"Coming to Orlais didn't turn out to be the vacation you had in mind, did it?" he guessed. "Not like you'd have the easiest time coming here with a mage in tow, besides."

Marnie didn't say anything, just fixated him with a wry smirk. Varric relented considerably after that. He didn't want to get off on the wrong foot.

"Don't worry, I was just making conversation," he leaned back with a placating grin. "I'm only interested because, well, I'm an author. And it's an interesting story. Mysterious adventurers from an all-but-forgotten land, riding a red elk, bearing fine armor and skills from battles left only to the imagination?"

Marnie grinned and rolled her eyes. "Yes, 'tis nothing more attractive than a man who says he's an author."

Gale spoke up from her lap. "Marnie, we've _read_ some of his books. _Swords and Shields_ , Chapter four—"

Marnie clasped a hand over his mouth, and Gale looked thoroughly annoyed at her. Varric would've laughed, had it not been _that_ book.

"Uh," he managed to chuckle. "Any particular reason for reading that one?"

Marnie shrugged and refused to look at him. Was she blushing? "'Twas lovely. All books are."

A new voice joined them as Dorian stepped back into camp.

"I'll need to get you more refined tastes, then," he sighed, heading to his tent. "I'm turning in for the night, so if you need me, _don't._ "

Varric chuckled. "Don't mind him. He's just moody because we had to camp out. Although I don't disagree with him about the book..."

Marnie gave him a look, but she seemed a lot more relaxed now. Varric decided to quit while he was ahead.

"I think I'll turn in too," he said, standing up from his place by the fire and heading into his tent. "The Inquisitor said he'll take first watch, whenever you're ready."

"Alright," Marnie nodded. "I think I'll sit up for a little while."

Once the flaps of his tent were closed behind him and Marnie and Gale were left alone once more by the fireplace, she visibly relaxed. Gale sat upright and rolled his shoulders, staring at the flames indifferently.

"Ought we both rest a while?" Gale murmured.

Marnie nodded and glanced at the red blotch on his cheek from where he'd been laying against her.

Marnie had to turn in eventually, so she'd sooner get it over with. She timidly woke Trevelyan and turned in with Gale. It was a tight fit with both of them in the one tent; perhaps it was a far stretch on Marnie's part to claim they actually shared it. But they managed. Marnie settled into the single bedroll. Gale, on the other hand, sat in the corner and drew his knees to his chest.

_I should be keeping watch._

Marnie heard Gale's voice clear as day, though she knew he hadn't spoken the words out loud. She opened her eyes and as she'd predicted, his lips didn't so much as twitch. They were speaking to each other in their own minds now.

_You can keep watch in here_ , Marnie replied, silent as well. _Your people have exceptional hearing, right?_

_Among other things,_ Gale nodded. _As you wish._

_-_

The trip back to Skyhold was a long one, but the journey was made pleasantly bearable with two new recruits to question and pester.

"So, Marnie, was it?" Dorian started.

"Yes?" she looked at him from her place on the elk's back. She and Gale rode double on the elk, and it was an easy feat given how Gale was probably lighter than their luggage soaking wet.

"Courbet's an Orlesian name, isn't it?" Dorian pressed.

"... And?" her tone was less polite this time.

"It's just something I noticed is all," Dorian replied. "With things as they are, I thought you'd have a more Gransian surname like..."

"Goodfisher?"

"Seriously?" Dorian raised his eyebrows. He regretted it a moment later as he realized she was entirely sincere.

"Orlais runs a trade route to Gransys," Varric recalled. "Maybe your parents heard a few names they liked."

"My father's Orlesian, actually," Marnie said. "He captained that trade vessel to our port. 'Tis where the rest of my family's from."

"Cassardis," Gale spoke up from behind her, still gazing at the ground in a disinterested fashion. "Where shore and sky and water meet. A keystone of worlds."

Marnie put one hand over his and tilted her head a little. "You alright? You've been quiet today."

Gale inhaled sharply and straightened, surprised he'd caused her worry. "I'm fine."

"Besides," Marnie returned her attention to the others. "The Brine's been more and more lively over the last score years. Now foreign trades are so few and far between that there's no point to them."

"The Brine?" Iron Bull asked.

"Monsters in the water," Marnie explained. "All you see is red in the water, and then it takes you. 'Twill consume vessels and people alike, anywhere the water's too deep to stand."

"That's... creepy," Iron Bull finally found a satisfactory word.

Gale looked at him for the first time, and Iron Bull took him in. The boy was pale and vaguely sullen, but there was a cheerfulness in his expression. Aloofness and... self-assuredness. He couldn't have been much younger than Marnie, but his features told otherwise. And his eyes were a shape and shade of green eerily similar, if not identical, to Marnie's. It gave him a vaguely fox-faced look. Otherwise, they looked little alike.

"'Tis the least of our worries," his voice was impeccably eloquent, words woven like a fine silk. He was obviously well-read for his upbringing. "At least one can avoid the Brine."

Trevelyan sighed. "So Gransys is overrun with monsters too, huh?"

"We're better off than we could be," Marnie replied diplomatically.

"So, Gale, what was your upbringing like, with the magic and everything?" Dorian asked.

"Er..." Gale blinked, then looked at Marnie for help. Dorian chuckled awkwardly, but took it in his stride. Gale pressed his face against Marnie's shoulder.

"Forgive him," Marnie apologized. "He's unused to strangers."

"I didn't mean to frighten him," Dorian said. "I only wished to compliment his work. He's young to be so magically apt."

Gale chuckled exactly as Dorian had. Marnie elbowed him sternly.

Gale straightened and looked at Dorian. "What do you mean? You're a mage, aren't you?"

"Yes," Dorian preened, glad to talk about himself. "Although I grew up in Tevinter. Those with magical talents are bred and groomed into power. Unlike in the lands to the south, where mages are kept in prisons and controlled until they come of age. Even then, they're treated like criminals."

Marnie and Gale didn't say anything. They both looked bewildered at the thought.

"That isn't how things are in Gransys, then?" Dorian prompted gently.

"No..." Gale spoke. "Magical talent is rare, but considering how few people there are in Gransys, it may be proportional. They're trained by members of the Faith, or they're self-taught. Marnie's cousin Quina is currently in training, but she's the only other mage I know of."

" _Marnie's_ cousin?" Iron Bull asked.

" _Our_ cousin?" Gale mimicked his tone. " _Maker_."

Marnie laughed. "Coming here _was_ a shock in that regard. There's so many people here as well. 'Tis overwhelming."

"You'll be fine," Varric reassured her. "You're with the Inquisition now. Most people won't bother us, and those that do usually have another thing coming to them. If either of you have any problems, just go to the Inquisition's diplomatic adviser."

"I appreciate that, and I'll keep it in mind."

"If you don't mind me asking," Iron Bull interjected. "What brings you two to Thedas? Let alone to the ass-end of nowhere like this?"

"I wanted to see Orlais again," Marnie replied. "And when we heard what happened to the hole in the sky, we figured we'd stick around to see if we could help."

"And you left the luxury of Val Royeaux because...?"

"Oh, we were looking for sand."

"Sand?"

"Mm-hmm," Marnie nodded.

-

The days it took to return to Skyhold carried on like that. Mostly silent with a surprising amount of riveting conversation. The party arrived late in the evening on the third day, and Marnie and Gale weren't seen again after they turned into a room in the residential dormitories of the castle. The Inquisitor assured them the arrangement was temporary until they restored more of the castle, but Marnie assured them they could share one room as long as necessary. Actually, any offers of bringing in another bed, regardless of the trouble or lack thereof, were promptly but politely dismissed.

The castle alone was big enough to leave anyone confused from time to time, and most of it was open for anyone to come and go as they pleased. It was nothing like the strictly-kept Duke's castle in Gransys; there, she was only allowed in the main hall or the chamberlain's office to collect bounties and receive orders. Now, she was glad Gale could follow close behind her to ensure she was never lost.

"Have you explored the hold any?" Marnie asked as she dressed herself that morning. Gale watched her from a chair beside the bed.

"I went for a walk last night," Gale replied. "Parts of the castle are still in disrepair; someone told me the Inquisition arrived with it in shambles only a couple months ago. However, there are serviceable paths to every part of the fort. The stables, the tavern, and armory..."

"Oh," Marnie nodded, lacing up her boots. She felt almost naked without her full set of armor on, so she donned her leather jacket mostly for comfort and straightened. "Ought we get some breakfast?"

"Sure," Gale nodded and stood. "And... I already ate."

"Good," Marnie nodded and lead the way out of the room.

One door of the residential wing opened to the outside, where Marnie found the near-empty tavern. A few people drank or socialized, but most people in Skyhold were too busy to sit and drink. It seemed Marnie was far behind schedule if she wished to rise, dine, and leave the tavern the same time as everyone else.

"'Tis more lively earlier and at night, I suppose," Gale spoke up, taking in the room. He recognized one of the Inquisitor's companions—the Iron Bull—sitting and talking with a man in the corner, but that was all he really noticed. "The bartender would be a source of gossip, if you're interested."

"Maybe you can listen in later?" Marnie suggested, passing through the tavern with no more than a curt nod here or there as people looked at her. Gale didn't follow her example, instead watching only Marnie.

After grabbing a quick bite to eat, Marnie headed out of the tavern again. Just outside the tavern, Marnie was glad to recognize Scout Harding standing by.

"Hey," Harding waved at them. "Glad to see he took you in. The Inquisitor, I mean."

"How are you, Harding?" Marnie smiled amicably. "'Tis good to see a familiar face."

"Of course," Harding couldn't help but grin again at her old-fashioned way of speaking. "We're just taking a break to restock before heading out again. Are you two settling in alright?"

She glanced at Gale, but though he looked at her, he made no move to speak.

"'Tis a little overwhelming," Marnie admitted. "But we'll adapt, in time."

"I'm sure you will. If you can survive three weeks in the Western Approach, Skyhold should prove no challenge. Is there anything I could help you find?"

"The stables?" Marnie asked rather sheepishly. "I was also wondering if there was a merchant in the hold. Also, is there somewhere specific we could go to find work?"

"The stables are just that way against the far wall," Harding pointed. "The merchant is just across from it. As for work, well, you could ask around. There's always something that needs doing, and I know you two like to keep busy. I recommend speaking to our requisitions overseer or the infirmary on the other side of the tavern. They're always in need of extra hands and supplies."

"My thanks," Marnie smiled gratefully.

"Anytime."

Marnie and Gale made an anti-clockwise round about the grounds, going from the tavern down to the yard and across to the merchant Harding mentioned. After exchanging a few questions about commissioning materials or supplies, Marnie left it at that. At the stables, Marnie leaned into the stall where her elk was being kept and gave him a cursory look-over. He seemed in good health and completely content with his new surroundings and stablemates. A man sat in the corner, whittling away on a block of wood. He barely so much as glanced at them. Gale leaned down to whisper at Marnie.

"That's another one of the Inquisitor's companions," he whispered. "Blackwall. He's the only Gray Warden they've found here."

"And a Gray Warden? What's that?"

Though her voice was equally low, they drew attention. Blackwall paused and glanced over his shoulder at them. He and Marnie held each other's eyes for a long moment before Blackwall shifted his look to the boy, who was still murmuring to Marnie and acting like he didn't see Blackwall there at all. Odd behavior, from both of them. Maybe they didn't want to be a bother. After Blackwall turned back to his carving, Marnie trotted out of the stable.

Marnie led the way across the yard to the kitchens. Gale faltered behind her to look about.

"Ah, their well," he noted, pausing by said well for only a moment.

The kitchen always seemed busy, but the morning rush had already passed, thankfully. One of the girls saw them standing in the doorway and quit sweeping the floor.

"Did you two miss breakfast?" she asked, obviously a little rushed as it was.

"No, just wondering where everything is," Marnie dismissed. She'd hate to trouble her over nothing. "Is there anything we could do to help?"

The girl set the broom against the table and took a small crate from the counter.

"Take these rations to the infirmary," she said, handing them to Marnie. "They're for patients and healers alike. Some of them rarely get out to make meals, so we just send them over after the rush."

"We'll see it done," Marnie nodded and headed back out the door to the yard.

The crate's weight was nothing to scoff at, but Marnie easily carried it across the yard and up the stairs to the infirmary behind the tavern. The smell of hot herbs and festering wounds greeted Marnie just outside the door. Nothing out of the ordinary, of course; this was a healer's ward, a sanctuary for the injured and sick, but it still surprised Marnie how many people there were.

An elf left his post by a patient's bedside to collect the crate from her.

"Thank you," he whispered, back hunched from the weight of the crate as he shifted it to a nearby table and started laying out the contents for distribution. Marnie couldn't help but stare around the room, evaluating each of the maybe thirty or forty injured.

"This would've been my entire village," she murmured, more to herself. The elf heard her, though, and explained willingly.

"One of our forces came back, nearly all injured. We lost one or two, but at least none were taken prisoner."

"No sickness?" Marnie narrowed her eyes.

"Not more than usual," the young man blinked. He didn't understand what Marnie was asking this for.

"Are your healers mages?"

"We do have mage healers," the elf nodded. "But there's only so much they can do, ma'am..."

Marnie looked back at the ward. Even the healers looked weary. This was no state Marnie could abide.

"My—Gale's a healer," Marnie offered. "Might he heal all your wounded?"

The man blinked at Gale and, upon seeing the staff on his back, nodded.

"We'll accept any help we can get."

Marnie turned to her healer and gestured to the room.

"Do it. As much as you can."

"Leave it to me," Gale drew his staff at once and held it before him. An orb of glowing green light floated before him, and yet another appeared right over one of the bedridden soldiers. The soldier sat up as the orb of light latched onto his chest painlessly. Judging by the expression on his face, he probably thought he was dying. Then Gale spread his arms out on either side of him, and the orb in the soldier's chest blossomed into an expanse of green light that rapidly healed all that touched it.

Bones straightened and mended, wounds closed, skin regenerated, burns soothed and virtually disappeared. Before the healers knew what was happening right before their eyes, the injured began to stand and walk, nearly delirious with the high, excited feeling of their near-constant pain being suddenly eased. Even those that had initially struggled against the spell—fearful of magic, no doubt—now stood in bewildered content as they were miraculously healed.

The green light faded before all were healed, but Gale only began to cast another round. If he'd cast any other spell, the other healers might've had a mind to be afraid or angry. Restrain him and order him to be watched carefully, if not made Tranquil right then and there for his brash nature. However, after a moment of watching Gale, the healers all fell into a new order of cooperation.

What soldiers could walked, and those that couldn't were carried. Each of them reached for the green tendrils of light without fear, for the promise of relief and health after hours of suffering soothed them. No pain, none at all, just a soothing anodyne that was lukewarm in the best way. Gale healed them in whatever clustered formation they came to him in, then the healed patients filed out of the healer's den in a line, being checked over by the healers and sometimes sent back to bed with lingering fevers, infections, or some wounds simply left alone by the curious spell. But most were released with only minor or no injuries at all.

Marnie lingered by the wall, arms folded across her chest with unmistakable adoration and pride as she watched Gale work. Another healer, one in a state of authority here, by the looks of it, marched towards Marnie. Marnie was ready to make any defense for Gale, but she didn't think she'd need to, based on the state of things.

"What tower is he from?" the surgeon asked.

"Tower?" Marnie asked. "We're from Gransys. We don't have towers. Even there, Gale was the most prolific healer."

"How does this work?" the other pointed at the spell. "And we don't want him to tire himself."

"'Tis a healing spell," Marnie explained. "It'll mend most wounds. The sooner they're healed, the better, though. There will still be fevers or infection; 'tis best for use in the battlefield."

The healer turned to her. "How often can he help us?"

Marnie blinked as her lips spread in a grin. It sounded like Gale just got his own job.

"We're the Inquisitor's companions. As long as we're not with him or doing another task, we'll be available to you."

For the first time, they had a place there, even if it was infrequent. It reassured Marnie to no end.


	2. Expedition: Storm Coast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking time to settle in Skyhold, Marnie and Gale join Trevelyan to an expedition to the Storm Coast.

Trevelyan had abstained from judging Gereon Alexius for as long as anyone could stand. After a subtle push from Josephine, Trevelyan finally assumed what he dreaded would be the hardest part of acting as the Inquisition’s leader. Before they lost Haven, Alexius had been behind disaster at Redcliffe. The formal charges were apostasy, attempted enslavement of the rebel mages, and attempted assassination on the Inquisitor’s life. But there was more to it than that. Alexius had suffered for his own corruption in many ways, enough to the point that mere imprisonment was generous as a sentence but unbearable as a punishment.

After agonizing over his decision, Trevelyan opted to execute Alexius. The former magister was a danger to Thedas, or at least he had been, but all things considered, Trevelyan sympathized with his willingness, and maybe even his desire, to die. The execution took place after the trial in the yard by the training grounds in front of a sizable crowd of Skyhold’s residents. Even though he intended the death to be an act of mercy, Trevelyan was wracked with guilt even before he drew his sword. He anticipated to avoid any future executions. There were a wealth of options available to him, and even something as barbaric as Tranquility must be forgivable in comparison in some instances.

Several people in Skyhold came to watch the execution, and Trevelyan did nothing to stop them. However, he hadn’t anticipated the new recruits to be among the crowd. Marnie lingered the farthest back from the platform, unable to tear her eyes away from the spectacle. She was completely still, not unlike a deer freezing to avoid a predator’s gaze. Actually, with how far away she was, and with enough taller people in front of her, she heard more than she saw. The grisly parting of flesh, the thud of a limp, decapitated body splaying sideways on the platform. Then the Inquisitor sheathed his sword and stalked off of the platform, his hands still shaking.

Barbaric, Marnie thought.

“’Tis done,” Gale said into her ear.

Marnie exhaled.

“Let’s go inside,” she replied just as quietly. She didn’t want to be here, out in the open.

-

Dorian startled when he looked up from his book and saw Gale standing awkwardly against one of the shelves in the library. When did he get here? Dorian gave a shout and jumped in his chair. Gale only glanced up, completely unaware that he’d been what frightened the other mage so much.

“What is it?” Gale glanced around for something to jump at. The painting on the wall? It had a lot of red in it. Gale gave his best performance; he jumped back, much like how a cat startles at pretty much anything.

“You, that’s what,” Dorian sighed, putting his forehead into his hand instead of paying attention to how Gale acted. “I didn’t expect you to be up here is all. Where’s your sister?”

“She’s... resting,” Gale stuttered. “She wanted to be alone.”

“I see.”

“Am I allowed here?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t expect much though; I’m still trying to revise the collection,” Dorian replied. He turned his attention to a stack of volumes on the table he’d collected earlier.

Gale aimlessly perused the bookshelf in front of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on any words. Was he troubled?

“We watched the execution,” he said.

“Ah... that, yes.” Dorian’s voice was grim. Quieter than Gale had gotten used to hearing from him.

“It upset Marnie,” Gale said.

Dorian’s expression momentarily soured. “It upset me, too. I knew Alexius before all this. He was a good man, but he compromised everything in his grief. It’s a shame what happened, but....”

“Alexius was important to you,” Gale realized quietly. “I offer my deepest sympathies, Master Pavus.”

Dorian was startled again, but this time in a more pleasant way than he was used to. There was a lot to Gale’s statement, but among it all was unexpected sincerity. Sympathy. Had the circumstances been any different, Dorian might’ve thought to comment on everything else—Gale’s heart-felt forwardness, his tone, not to mention his manner of address—but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Dorian finally said, “Alexius made a hard argument for his own death. It was a merciful death, to credit our Inquisitor.”

“Aye,” Gale sighed. “Let’s speak of something more pleasant.”

“I agree. Have you read Swords and Shields yet?”

-

After hearing second-hand about the trial and the socio-political complexities of the situation behind it all, Marnie’s trepidation about the execution were eased until it left her thoughts completely. By the next morning, she resumed her routine around Skyhold as normal, and she didn’t think twice when the Inquisitor asked to join them for breakfast. Trevelyan found Marnie and Gale sitting together over breakfast in the tavern. Only Marnie was eating, whilst Gale watched her; he must’ve eaten earlier. Trevelyan raised a hand in greeting as he approached the table.

“May I join you?” he asked.

“Of course,” Marnie nodded.

Trevelyan sat down across the table from them.

“Settling in alright?”

“Yes, very much, thank you,” Marnie smiled. She spoke more politely than almost anyone else the Inquisitor had recruited, but her sincerity was more than apparent. In fact, in spite of that, her manners seemed almost effortless. Was the culture in Gransys always so... docile?

“How are the others treating you?”

“Well as they will, I suppose,” Marnie sighed. “Though I’ll admit, ‘tis been too long since I worked with anyone I wasn’t charged with protecting. At the very least, our stay with the Inquisition ought be... interesting. Whate’er you need of me, just say the word.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know, thanks.”

“So what exactly do you do here?” Marnie finally asked. “And what are the regulations?”

“Regulations?” Trevelyan couldn’t help but laugh. “I wish everyone I recruited was as sane as you.”

Marnie glanced away, a bit chagrined.

“Anyway,” Trevelyan sobered, catching her reaction. “Regulations. Yes. Well, we don’t have many. As far as I’m concerned, you can be a nuisance, you can take and leave what you want, and you can even hit select members of the Inquisition with a large stick from time to time with no negative repercussions.”

Marnie blinked. Even Gale’s attention was caught now.

“You can do what you want as long as everyone’s kept in one piece. Got it?”

“Understood,” Marnie said, and Gale nodded.

“As for what we do, that’s less ambiguous, thankfully,” Trevelyan continued. “What all do you know of the events here in Thedas related to the demon invasion?”

“Truly, nothing,” Marnie replied. “Gale and I overhear people talking about political unrest and dangers on the roads at every turn, but all that is indistinguishable from what we hear in our home country.”

“I see. Well, to be brief, Corypheus, a darkspawn magister, seeks to enter the Fade and ascend to godhood to correct our corrupted world, with the help of Venatori forces.”

“Oh,” Marnie nodded.

Maxwell blinked. “You seem a bit indifferent.”

“The Inquisition was formed to combat his invasion. ‘Tis nothing to be hysterical about. We have a plan of action, I assume.”

“I’m sure you know that ‘our corrupted world’ would extend to Gransys,” he shifted his weight and gave her a serious look.

“But not yet,” Marnie corrected him. “We have our own troubles overseas. The darkspawn are tied to your histories alone at this time. How did you come to lead the Inquisition?”

“I’ve been deemed the Herald of Andraste,” Trevelyan explained. “Though that’s up for debate. When Corypheus... tried to enter the Fade, I apparently interrupted the ritual, and I ended up with this.”

He extended his right hand, palm-up, for them to see. The glowing green mark in his hand was less apparent now than when he was near a Rift, but it was still plainly visible. Marnie straightened, her eyes locked on the mark. Her expression changed to one of capture and despair all at once. Trevelyan chalked it up to the usual surprise of seeing a hole in someone’s hand.

He continued speaking. “The Anchor, as Corypheus called it. A means for which he hoped to physically enter the Fade. He’s still after it, I’m afraid, so right now we’re trying our best to rally forces and repair tears in the Veil when we’re not interfering with Corypheus’ attempts.”

Marnie couldn’t listen past his revealing the Anchor. She was taken with the mark—it was connected to the Fade, she could feel it. And in such close proximity, she felt she could almost... open it.

“Are you alright?” Trevelyan withdrew his hand and craned his neck to make eye contact with her.

“I’m fine,” she shook her head.

The Anchor reacted, pulsating once so quickly that it was startling but hardly painful for its bearer. The scar on Marnie’s chest flared as well, though the sensation was slower and felt more like the stab of a hot blade than a quick sting. Marnie doubled forward, clutching her chest and pressing her lips together to stifle a yell.

“Marnie!” Gale put his arms around her, half to support her and half to shield her from the prying eyes of nearly every person in the tavern.

“Be still,” Marnie murmured through clenched teeth, her voice so low only Gale could hear her. She pressed her fist against the scar. Thank goodness her vest covered it for now.

Gale’s eyes cautiously returned to the Inquisitor’s hand. “That mark....”

“Be still!” Marnie commanded again.

Trevelyan, after briefly nursing his hand, looked to Marnie, who was sitting up straight again and picking through her food. Gale kept an arm around her protectively. Even as she raised her cup to take a sip of water, she was sickly pale, her forehead shined with a thin layer of sweat.

“Are you alright?” Trevelyan demanded. He debated reaching for her, but the way Gale was shielding her like a mantling bird put him off the idea.

“I’m fine, Inquisitor,” Marnie replied.

Trevelyan looked reluctantly relieved. “Are you?”

“Of course.” She gave him a serious expression. “You were saying about our work?”

He wasn’t, but it was clear she wanted to change the subject at once.

“Er... right,” Inquisitor got back on track. “Part of our job is to secure certain areas in Thedas, to act as bases for certain tasks and increase our power, political and otherwise. I’m taking an expedition party to the Storm Coast tomorrow, and I wanted you and Gale to join me.”

“’Tis what we’re here for,” Marnie smiled and nodded. “We’ll be ready in the morning.”

“Great,” the Inquisitor returned her smile. “Let’s see what you’re truly made of.”

-

The Storm Coast was an all too fitting name. The area was characterized by sparse forestry, formidable hills, rocky pillars and outcroppings, and a near-constant cover of rain and thunderstorm clouds. The area was only passable by a handful of neglected trails that wound around the hills, caves, and glades. Alleged flora and fauna of the area consisted of elfroot, some saltwater plants, rams, and, regrettably, lots of bears. Luckily for the Inquisition, they had business almost solely on the coast today, where few animals would dare tread because of the numerous Rifts that had opened there.

“The scouts told me there’s two Rifts along the beach,” Trevelyan started, scanning the coastline from their vantage point at the camp. “We should close those and see if we can establish any more camps in the area farther inland.”

Vivienne, Sera, and Iron Bull were also among the Inquisitor’s expedition party. Since this wasn’t the Inquisition’s first escapade to the coast, they were all confidently equipped for the trails ahead. Marnie and Gale, however, had to make do with what they had. Fortunately, they weren’t stupid; they made sure they were well-equipped before they even left Val Royeaux. Marnie’s black cloak fared well in all kinds of weather, but Gale on the other hand only had a gray coat Marnie had bought him in the city.

“We’ll get your cloak back with the next shipment,” Marnie assured him in a terse mumble as she straightened his collar so it wicked the droplets of rain away from his neck. Gale didn’t seem too bothered by it.

“Rifts?” Gale questioned as they made their way down the cliff.

“Tears in the Veil,” Trevelyan supplied briefly.

“Are they not natural?” Marnie asked.

“Are tears in the Veil natural where _you_ come from, Marnie?” Vivienne returned. Marnie pursed her lips.

“The Veil has been unstable after Corypheus’ ritual,” Trevelyan brushed over the potential squabble. “The Rifts are just a gateway for demons. I’m the only one who can close them, and it’s best we do so in good time.”

Marnie and Gale exchanged a look as they continued down the slope with the rest of them.

As soon as they reached the water, they scoured the beach for supplies and materials. The shore’s ground was composed of medium-sized pebbles, not sand, and the low tide churned rapidly and unevenly in the waves that lapped at the shore. The area was a far cry from the dream-like beaches and vacation spots farther inland. Even the beaches in Gransys were preferable.

“You can’t see the other side,” Gale commented, gazing out to the churning sea. “’Tis wider than it looks on a map.”

“You might be able to see something from higher up on the islands,” Marnie replied.

“Mm. The others have already passed through here.”

“Yes. They’re probably well on their way to Cassardis by now.”

“I hope they’re safe.” Gale caught himself a stuttered a little bit. “Er, forgive me. I’ll upset you if I say such things.”

“’Tis quite alright,” Marnie waved awkwardly.

Gale stared at her for another second before suddenly looking farther down the shore like something had caught his attention. Nothing was visible beyond an outcropping of rocks and pillars that almost reached the sea. Whatever was beyond that, Gale fixated on it.

“We should head that way,” he suggested.

After collecting satisfactory samples of everything, Trevelyan lead the group on again. As Gale suggested, (not that they had many options), they traveled farther down the beach and rounded the rocky outcropping. On the other side, a large Rift crackled in the sky and bathed the area in green light. The demons produced from said Rift were weak but plentiful. Gale seemed to ready himself before anyone else, preparing them for battle long before they were noticed or had time to assess the situation.

“Demons, there!” he shouted, He drew his staff and conjured a glowing yellow sigil around them to temporarily buff their defenses. Vivienne conjured a barrier spell in a fraction of the time, urgently, since Gale decided to alert the demons of their position so carelessly. They didn’t have the time to dwell on it; the others were already on the move towards the Rift. Gale followed Sera to higher ground, Vivienne circled the demons to surround them on the other side, and Trevelyan, Iron Bull, and Marnie charged into the middle of the fray.

Two lesser terrors, four wraiths, and two lesser shades. Demons were formidable in such quantities, but the Inquisition had faced their kind and worse before now. If Marnie had any place calling herself the finest rogue in Gransys, she’d have no problem either. However, as soon as they laid eyes on her, every single demon in the field turned and flocked to Marnie as if she was the only one trespassing on their beach. Perhaps her smaller figure made her look less intimidating, or her lack of stealth abilities to keep her out of sight, or most likely the demons’ onslaught was due to her moving faster than the others and ending up out in the open with little support nearby. Whatever the cause, Trevelyan had never seen demons make a coordinated effort towards killing anything like they did now.

Marnie attacked the first lesser terror that approached her, but defending herself proved to be a greater challenge as more monsters reached her. In a moment of self-defense or frustration, she dashed between two of the monsters with her blades drawn, and a trail of ice burst behind her. Marnie glanced over her shoulder as Iron Bull began swinging his greatsword at the hoard, shattering bone and ice alike. Either Gale or Vivienne had her back, and now that others were attacking, the demons seemed to snap out of their obsessive trance. Now that she wasn’t their exclusive focus, Marnie circled the group and picked them off from the outside.

From their vantage point on one of the high outcroppings of stone pillars, Sera and Gale could shoot and cast in peace. Gale stood behind Sera, following his and Marnie’s usual strategy—heal the wounded, enchant weapons, and cast minor offensive spells if you have nothing better to do. Gale imbued Marnie’s weapons first with a glowing amber fire enchantment that set whatever she cut ablaze. Then, since Sera was closest, Gale enchanted hers next. He didn’t expect it to startle her to such a degree.

“What the hell?!” Sera dropped her bow as if it’d burned her and wiped her hands on her shirt, agitated.

“’Tis just a fire enchantment!” Gale protested, sounding a little miffed that his efforts were for naught.

“Piss off, mage!”

Between their frenzied bickering, they didn’t realize the telltale green haze spreading rapidly beneath them. Not a moment later, a lesser terror burst forth from its self-made portal, knocking Sera and Gale off their pillar and down into the battlefield. Luckily, neither of them sustained more than a couple scratches and well-deserved bruises, so after a moment to collect themselves, they got back to their feet and returned to the fight. Sera collected her still-glowing bow, not caring this time if it burned her, whilst Gale conjured a green healing spell around them even though neither of them were injured enough to warrant it. Any of the monsters within reach of the spell shrieked and scrambled away frantically; obviously, there was something to the magic that injured them.

Sera didn’t complain this time, but only because it kept them alive.

Marnie sprinted into the glowing light, first as a pick-me-up, but also to check on her comrades.

“You two alright?” she asked.

“We’re fine,” Gale nodded.

“Your brother sucks,” Sera seethed.

Marnie rolled her eyes with a withering sigh and continued herding the monsters back to the others. She’d do well to lecture them both when this was done. She dispatched another wraith, and it reduced to flecks of ash and return to the Rift. Marnie’s gaze followed the ash, drawing just a little closer to the loud, writhing Rift. So that’s what they looked like here? Not so unusual, since they were unsanctioned tears in the Veil instead of proper gateways, and yet....

As Marnie crept closer and peered up at the Rift, she felt a tugging in her chest that became a sharp burn. She pressed a fist over her chest and backed away as Trevelyan raised his marked hand to seal the breach. Marnie was only vaguely aware of Gale’s hands pulling her away from the scene. The energy coursing between the Inquisitor’s hand and the tear in the Veil was almost audible, indescribable, then the sight and sound of the Rift cut off with a burst as it closed for good.

Once the Rift was sealed and the monsters gone, the members of the Inquisition regrouped. Gale didn't put his staff away yet; he began conjuring a healing spell to mend the others' wounds before they moved on. He stepped into the light.

"Gather birdies," he said.

"Gather 'round the marble nest," Marnie echoed, stepping into the healing spell.

The others followed suit. The anodyne was soothingly warm but refreshingly cold at the same time and mended bone, muscle tissue, and skin equally whilst leaving a mild but not unpleasant tingling behind. Almost all wounds, superficial to severe, were healed at the spell's touch. A healing potion would be as effective, yet this spell was available in unlimited supply. And judging by Gale's proficiency in using it, casting it was effortless to him. Fair, since it seemed to be his only specialty.

"Not bad," Iron Bull grumbled as he watched a gash on his arm knit together painlessly before his eyes. He made a mental note to avoid the spell if he attained a particularly badass wound.

"Is this what you did for the injured at the infirmary?" Trevelyan asked.

"Yes," Gale replied.

"Dear, what, pray tell, is the purpose of expending your energy over such minor wounds?" Vivienne asked. She clearly wasn't impressed by the skills Marnie had praised so fervently.

"'Tis best to heal minor wounds when you can," Marnie replied, too matter-of-fact to sound defensive. "The anodyne will only heal you so much. Gale stays ahead on it so he'll be able to heal us when we need it."

Then she turned to Gale with a displeased look on her face.

Gale shuffled his feet. "M... Marnie?"

"Don't shout," she nagged. "You'll startle the others."

“You’ll _alert_ the enemies,” Trevelyan corrected, and Gale just looked at him to seem polite. “We were lucky this time.”

Gale deferred again to Marnie, who looked mildly indignant but didn’t say anything else.

As they traveled, collecting resources as they went, they happened upon several wrecked ships that had washed up to the shore. Trevelyan picked through the debris for any useful or valuable materials.

“Morrin’s Outlook,” Gale noted, gesturing—a light, elegant motion of his willowy arm—to the large statue barely visible on the horizon. “Do you know it, Marnie?”

“Hm?” Marnie looked up, then squinted at the sea. “Yes. ’Twas a landmark for trade ships. My father never stopped here, though.”

Gale nodded. “Actually, did you know there are abandoned dwarven ruins here that used to lead to the Deep Roads?”

“Oh?”

“Ambassadors from the dwarven empire and the Tevinter Imperium used to meet at the port on the western coast for trade. But the port and the ruins were sealed in the Divine Age, during a darkspawn incursion. Evermore, the ports are utilized by pirates and smugglers alike.”

“Did you happen to read that in the mission report before coming here?” Trevelyan asked dubiously.

“I read it in the library,” Gale said, not looking away from Marnie, feeling a prickle of sweat on the back of his neck.

“That’s a fine stroke of luck, given you’ve had such little time for light reading.”

“He’s a fast reader,” Marnie dismissed. “That’s enough, Gale.”

Gale didn’t speak after that.

“Boring,” Sera drawled.

They continued along the shoreline, gathering materials and searching the tunnels and caves as they came to them. The Inquisitor led them into one of the many passages and searched the immediate walls for a sconce. He heard the striking of flint and saw the faint orange glow of fire on the cave walls. Trevelyan looked over his shoulder. Marnie was tethering a small metal lantern to her belt. The flame illuminated a fair amount of the room. Trevelyan gave her a curious yet supportive look.

“’Tis dark,” Marnie said rather defensively, not moving her hand from her hip as she walked through the passage. Gale nearly clung to her.

With her leading the way, the group cleared the tunnel of spiders and deepstalkers and descended about halfway through. They found an abandoned tent and some supplies, which they searched.

“So, what’s with those demons back there, Marnie?” Sera asked.

“From the Rift?” Marnie clarified.

“Yeah, it’s like they were drawn to you or something. Creepy.”

“I wouldn’t know...”

Sera narrowed her eyes. “Why’d you say it like that?”

Marnie gave her a reassuring smile. “I guess I don’t sound too sure of myself. I wouldn’t know why they rushed me like that, but I’ll be more careful next time.”

“You’d better be. Gale doesn’t listen to anyone but you.”

“Hm.”

-

Once they exited the other side of the cave, Marnie put away her lantern while the others scanned the surroundings as their eyes adjusted.

“There’s a fair campsite,” Gale referred to a clearing at the foot of the hill.

After marking it down on the map and staking claim to the clearing campsite, Trevelyan returned to the coast. They reached another inlet rife with shipwrecks and materials. As soon as they turned the corner, Marnie startled at something she saw and balked. Not a moment later, she relaxed again.

“Relax, Marnie, it’s a boat,” Iron Bull said in a patronizing tone. “I figured an immigrant from a _fishing village_ would be well-accustomed to them.”

“It looked like a woman, for a moment,” Marnie chuckled nervously.

“A what?” Vivienne asked.

“Look there,” Marnie pointed at it. “It looks like a woman crawling on her stomach. That’s the hair, and there’s her face—her mouth’s agape.”

Vivienne squinted, trying to see the same illusion, but drew a blank.

“Pretty big woman,” Iron Bull muttered.

“Yes, ‘twas why it was scary,” Marnie nodded.

“My dear, you’re scary,” Vivienne concluded in an amused tone.

They were about halfway down the coast by now, and making good time for all their tasks. They found plenty of resources for the local requisitions along the way. Local wildlife stayed well out of sight and mind, though from the storm or the oncoming party, no one knew for sure. Altogether, the terrain was a combination of steep hills and slippery, gravelly paths that were difficult to navigate, so the group stayed in fairly close quarters during their trek.

When the shore became impassable due to steep pillars obstructing the beach all the way into the water, Trevelyan led the way through a small outcropping of trees to the other side of the obstacle. As soon as the trees began to thin again, the group could see water and unsettlingly large patches of motion on the opposite side of the beach. Gale froze and touched Marnie’s arm.

“Marnie—”

Gale’s voice was drowned out by the deafening roar of the dragon crouched against the other bank. The beast paid them no mind, thankfully, and it was far enough away that they surely would’ve been safe either way. After all, their legs were made for running. The dragon was instead occupied with settling its differences with a giant—a hideous, tall, yet surprisingly lank bipedal creature with a single eye and two tusks protruding from its lower jaw.

“Now, that’s badass!” Iron Bull shouted. “Boss, can we watch?”

“Alright. Just try to keep your distance—”

Another shriek echoed off the hills, and the ground underfoot trembled with tremors as the giant slammed both fists down on the ground. Trevelyan shuddered; he did not want to contend with that. They needed to take advantage and get past while both beasts were occupied. After briefly appraising the terrain, Trevelyan found a path up into the forest and over the hill on the other side of the beach some distance away from the behemoth battle. The route was a little out of the way but serviceable, as long as they didn’t attract attention.

“This way,” he murmured, waving the others on. “We don’t want to stay too long.”

“Aw,” Sera and Bull groaned, but followed behind the others.

When the group was still a considerable sprint away from the opposite treeline, the dragon spun around and shot into the air, beating its wings to carry it into the clouds and out of sight. Now unoccupied but still wound up, the giant spun on its heel, searching for something else to fight or eat. It caught sight of the five almost bite-sized travelers before any of them could react. Trevelyan steeled only momentarily.

“Retreat to the woods!” Trevelyan called to the others. “Up the hill! It won’t—”

But Marnie was already running, sprinting directly at the monster with her daggers drawn. Gale had his staff drawn, watching her intently, ready to support her. Those two were prepared to take on the giant all by themselves.

“Marnie, don’t!” Trevelyan shouted.

Trevelyan bit back a swear as he drew his sword. Vivienne stood her ground, throwing a barrier spell as far out as she could reach to protect Marnie alone. It wasn’t ideal, but since Marnie was the one lacking self-preservation and common sense, she obviously needed it most.

Marnie didn’t hesitate; she darted back and forth under the giant with her blades drawn, slashing its ankles and calves in rapid, overwhelming succession. She finished off her flurry by driving both of her blades into the back of the giant’s right leg at a horizontal angle and ripping them out sideways. The giant stumbled away, doubling forward half-way as it regained its precarious balance. The giant peered around its ankles and limped back a few steps, watching Marnie’s movements to reevaluate how best to pursue her. If it couldn’t place her long enough to grab her, it might retreat.

By that point, the rest of the party had joined her, and the area smelled like blood and burning flesh—probably due to the giant’s right ankle being on waning fire. Without higher ground to go to, Sera kept her distance, and Gale paced anxiously several yards out of the way. Iron Bull and Trevelyan joined Marnie in her assault, the former being significantly less irritated at her for dragging them into this fight.

Marnie skidded to a halt right in front of the giant and waved her arms to get its attention. Trevelyan lunged at her to push her out of the way. Marnie gave under his weight and they both landed in a pile of saltwater-soaked pebbles just as the giant’s fists came down on the ground where they’d been. Marnie wriggled out from under Trevelyan and launched herself at the giant’s recoiling arms. Luckily, she managed to find purchase between its fingers to cling to the giant’s hands and then move up its arm.

“What is she doing, Inquisitor?” Vivienne shouted from afar.

“Something crazy,” Trevelyan mumbled as his gaze followed Marnie all the way up to the giant’s shoulder. “But it just might work.”

Marnie did just as he’d predicted; she clung to the giant’s face and drew one of her daggers back and forth against the flesh of the beast’s single eye. The giant arched its back and flailed an arm up to grab at her, but she released him at the very last moment. She was prepared to hit the stone—and face whatever damage may follow that—but something caught her. At first, Marnie struggled, thinking she’d been snatched up by the giant after all, but the arms holding her quickly released her. She landed on her feet and looked up at who’d caught her. The Iron Bull.

They regarded each other for a single moment—was she alright, could they still fight—before returning to the giant. They both joined Trevelyan in attacking the giant’s leg, and after a few hard blows, the giant’s knee buckled and the creature collapsed onto its hands and knees.

“’Tis fallen!” Gale shouted. “Attack now!”

The two fighters and Marnie circled around the beast while Sera loosed multitudes of arrows at the giant’s face. Trevelyan and Marnie worked at its opposite arm until it, too, gave out, leaving the giant lying prone on the ground. Then, the Iron Bull landed a killing blow to the back of its neck, severing its spine and leaving the creature dead at last.

Marnie straightened and wiped her daggers on the edge of her cloak before sheathing them and running to join Vivienne, Sera, and Gale.

“Are you unharmed?” Gale asked, staff lingering in his hands as he appraised each member of the party. Marnie followed his gaze, pausing when she met eyes with Trevelyan.

“Are you unharmed?” Trevelyan prompted in an impatient tone.

“Yes,” Marnie nodded. “Are you?”

“I think we got lucky this time.” Trevelyan stepped a little closer to her. “What part of ‘retreat’ didn’t you understand?”

“The giant was already chasing us,” Marnie replied calmly. “I figured we had a better chance if one of us stayed behind to distract it.”

“So you were willing to die for this one expedition?” Trevelyan demanded. “You need to have more self-preservation. Save the risk-taking for when it counts.”

“Inquisitor...” Marnie narrowed her eyes in beseeching confusion. “Is this not what we do everyday in the field? Gale and I have faced beasts like that and bigger on our own; we know how to handle ourselves.”

Clearly, she did, but Trevelyan was still dubious. Even seeing how Marnie strategized in such a short time to make quick work of the fight. How’d she think to climb that thing, anyway? But for now, Trevelyan decided to ease up and give Marnie the benefit of the doubt. This time.

“It seems you do.” He looked past her at Gale, who was already scavenging from the giant’s corpse. “Just try to follow my lead next time, alright?”

“Alright,” Marnie nodded, but it was impossible to gauge her sincerity.

-

Fortunately, the rest of the expedition went on without any further drama, and the party was able to finish clearing the Storm Coast and return to Skyhold exactly on time. After the successful but ultimately very fruitless-feeling expedition, Trevelyan still had a day’s business to conduct upon their return. He left a report with his advisers about their findings, left materials with their requisitions officers and creature researchers, and informed Blackwall of their findings of the Grey Wardens in the area. In hindsight, Trevelyan felt a little inconsiderate for not bringing him along, but Blackwall dismissed his condolences with a half-assed “I’d rather be here than camping in the rain” excuse. The Inquisitor would be sure to bring him along next time.

After a surprisingly hectic first day back, which Trevelyan would soon recognize to be a part of the routine of expeditioning, Trevelyan checked in with the inner circle, both to see what all had gone on in his absence and also to see how the returning party was unwinding.

Varric and Cassandra had had another argument. Varric refused to be anywhere there wouldn’t be witnesses, and Cassandra was pent up but mostly unseen after a few arduous training sessions. Dorian had found a rather impressive hand-made field guide left in the library about all the plants and animals in Thedas, but he had yet to find the owner. Vivienne was already engrossed in some form of study upon her return, and Sera had formulated a brilliant prank to play as soon as they entered the gates. Marnie and Gale were rewarding themselves with long naps and tavern meals Gale brought to their room. Word came from Solas that he and Cole were still alive and making good progress in the Hinterlands, but it would be a few days yet before they were ready to come back to Skyhold.

That left Iron Bull in the tavern. Trevelyan found him against the wall of the tavern where he usually was. Fortunately, he was alone tonight, which gave Trevelyan the perfect opportunity to talk to him.

“Boss,” Iron Bull stage-whispered as Trevelyan passed. “I’d like a word with you on our new recruits, when you have a moment.”

“I’m free now,” Trevelyan replied. He almost took a seat next to the other, but Iron Bull stopped him.

“Not here. We should go somewhere more private.”

“Alright,” Trevelyan nodded. So it was serious.

They went upstairs, near where Cole usually hid, and sat at one of the lesser-used tables. It was perfectly out of the way on a quiet night like this.

Trevelyan spoke first. “So what’s your read on them?”

“The woman seems simple, at first glance,” Iron Bull replied. “But that would explain why she expects us to buy her facade.”

“Facade?”

“I don’t think she and Gale are really siblings. I doubt they’re even related, and that’s saying something, in a place like Gransys.”

“Why do you say that?” Trevelyan asked.

“They don’t act like they’re related. Where’s the hair-pulling? Where’s the inside jokes? Aside from that, they look nothing alike, and their accents are slightly different. Marnie’s is rougher around the edges, like she’s not used to talking to important people, and Gale’s is more refined. Better-educated, one could say.”

“What’s to say he’s not better educated?” Trevelyan asked. “Her family could’ve invested in a better education for him alone.”

“Not common in Gransys,” Iron Bull denied. “Marnie’s from a fishing village—working class. Her people wouldn’t send one of their own to the capital to learn how to talk fancy and conduct business with lands abroad. He’d learn all he needed to about all that the same as Marnie would, in her own village, and overcoming a class difference is impossible there.”

“But why would she lie about it?” Trevelyan asked.

“To keep him close to her, most likely. With him being a mage, she was probably afraid they’d be separated if he lost control and the authorities got involved. At least if she played the relative card, she’d have the means to recover him a lot quicker.”

“Anything else you think she’s lying about?”

“Did you see that magic she did when fighting that giant?”

Trevelyan recalled the giant’s burning leg, but he didn’t process much beyond that at the time. “Gale enchants weapons with magic. I assume it was just that.”

“Enchanted weapons glow,” Iron Bull reminded him. “Hers didn’t. She did it all by herself that time.”

“Do you think she’s a mage?” Trevelyan demanded in a whisper.

Iron Bull nodded. “Granted, I’ve never seen a mage pose as a rogue. But magic is received differently in Gransys. You see what Gale can do. It’s just as she said; they don’t subjugate their mages there, and that might lead to magical skills developing in more liberated ways.”

“Anything else you noticed about her?”

“She’s hiding something, boss. Her body language is screaming it. It might just be the mage thing, or it could be something else entirely. We should be careful until we find out what it is.”

Trevelyan nodded. “And the boy?”

“Now, that’s the interesting part,” Iron Bull leaned forward. “Outside of Marnie, there’s nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“We don’t know anything about his backstory; he never talks about his family, what kind of upbringing he had, his interests, his friends and acquaintances. And I can’t find anything to dig for. It’s almost like he doesn’t have an identity. Outside of her, that is. Think about it. His world revolves around her. He follows Marnie around like a puppy, always obeying her every order without hesitation. More times than not, Marnie speaks for him.”

“Strange,” Trevelyan drawled. “But I’m not quite sure what you’re getting at.”

A sigh. “Look, Boss, I’m not going to sugar coat this. I think he might be a slave. Possibly kidnapped from Orlais or Ferelden.”

“Oh,” Trevelyan felt a sinking dread. He’d never had the stomach to discuss anything more drastic than household help, let alone slavery. “What would she be doing with a slave?”

“In her defense, this might not be damning for the boy,” Iron Bull relented a little, seeing Trevelyan’s borderline ghastly appearance. “He seems content with her right now. And if they’re lying about it and they’ve just fled Gransys, there’s a chance she might’ve stolen him from a less peaceful master.”

“Rescued him, you mean,” Trevelyan said.

“No, I wouldn’t go that far.” Iron Bull crossed his arms. “Whatever that kid’s been through to make him so... empty....” He shook his head. “In any case, he’s a well-educated young stripling with an encyclopedic knowledge of Thedas and no will to resist her. Why wouldn’t she bring him along.”

“You say that as if they’re up to something,” Trevelyan said.

“I’m just saying, there’s too much suspicious shit going on right now to leave her be. They’re gathering information, and fast. I don’t know why, but it’s a possibility they might compromise our operations, whether they intend to or not.”

Trevelyan didn’t say anything, and Iron Bull gave him a moment to process all this new information. The Inquisitor reflected on every interaction he’d had or witnessed with Marnie, recalling it now in a new light. True, Gale never spoke, they were always seen together. But it was insane to think that Marnie was keeping a slave with her and that they were, what? Spying on the Inquisition and gathering intel for the Gransian duchy? What would the politically celibate Duke send one woman over to observe for?

There were countless possibilities and numerous uncertainties. And with how things were going lately, Iron Bull was right. Trevelyan wasn’t willing to stake his faith in Marnie and Gale right now. Until he knew what they were up to, he’d be eager to find out.

“So you think Gale is a slave from Thedas that Marnie owns and is claiming relation to so she can more efficiently spy on Thedas for the Duke of Gransys,” Trevelyan paraphrased. “That’s... actually insane-sounding, you know that, right?”

“What’s insane about it?” the other asked. “I’m a spy. Dorian’s from a country where slavery is legal. Vivienne is socially manipulative in the Orlesian court. How is this unbelievable?”

Trevelyan groaned. He supposed he’d made a habit of recruiting in crazy circumstances without really realizing it.

“So what should we do?” Trevelyan asked. “I don’t want them to have their way with us. It’s better to act on this sooner rather than later.”

“You don’t want to confront them now,” Iron Bull cautioned. “If I’m right, they’ll get scared off. If I’m wrong and you lay out those kinds of assumptions, they’ll think we’re full of shit and leave. No telling where they’d end up from here. And in either case, you don’t want any of the others catching rumors and taking matters into their own hands. Best we just lay low until we can make a more definitive decision. Be cool and wait for things to unfold.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Trevelyan concluded. “For the boy’s sake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you. Thanks for reading. I hope you like it.


	3. Operation Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to isolate Gale, Trevelyan takes him along on an expedition to Crestwood. However, keeping a smaller party may put them at a greater disadvantage than he'd first considered.

Iron Bull’s implications about Marnie and Gale wore on Trevelyan. He found himself preoccupied by the evidence that seemed more prolific with each hour that ticked by. Their reserved natures certainly didn’t help their case. Still, as the Inquisitor, Trevelyan had more important things to worry about than the identities and private lives of his companions, at least for now.

Over the next few days, Trevelyan ordered a group of Leliana’s agents to scout Crestwood for any danger. If the scouting mission was successful, that would be Trevelyan’s next destination. They still had a Grey Warden to find, not to mention whatever other hell had broken loose there since the Breach. However, until Leliana heard back from the scouts, Trevelyan was stuck in Skyhold doing menial tasks close to the base and in uncomfortably close quarters to Marnie and Gale, who seemed oblivious they were even given the cold shoulder.

The day after the scouting party was ordered out, Trevelyan made a trip to Josephine’s office before his daily round of the hold. He found her at her desk in her office.

“Is there something I can help you with, Inquisitor?” Josephine looked up from the reports she was reading.

“You’re up early,” Trevelyan noted.

“Yes,” Josephine winced and reached for a hot cup of tea at the corner of the desk and took a sip.

“Tell me you haven’t been up all night.”

“No, of course not!” Josephine dismissed. “I would never risk the quality of my work so carelessly.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Trevelyan gave her a small smile.

“Was there something that you needed?” she pressed.

“Yes,” Trevelyan shifted on his feet, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. “Were you three made aware of the situation with our newest recruits?”

“Yes,” Josephine replied quietly, glancing down the length of the room to ensure they were alone. “Leliana has eyes on them already. We’re keeping it among the three of us, but we’re also not taking any chances.”

“Good,” Trevelyan nodded. “I was wondering about Gale. If he’s a mage from around here, he may’ve been kept in a tower before. Is there any way for you to find out?”

“I could make an attempt,” Josephine sighed. “But trying to locate one mage from any tower would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. I wouldn’t get your hopes up, but I will do my best.”

“I understand,” Trevelyan nodded. It would be evidence against Marnie in the best case scenario. “Thank you, Josephine.”

-

After that, Trevelyan wandered through the castle in a routine circuit. He’d made a habit since settling in Skyhold to walk through every hall, yard, and public space of the fort at least once a day on the days he was there to ensure everything and everyone was in working order. If a task needed doing and he was free, he’d usually lend a hand. He felt so much more naturally apt at handling the seemingly small tasks of the common people in Thedas. Said tasks were nothing compared to fighting monsters and ordering large-scale operations, but Trevelyan always felt a little out of place in such leaderly duties. He’d do them, for the good of the Inquisition and the world as a whole, but he’d never neglect to indulge in doing more mundane tasks when the opportunities arose.

Today, he was a bit too preoccupied to check on anyone for long, so he moved on more quickly than usual and less efficiently than ever. He stayed in a state of muddled discontent until he reached the residential wing, where he heard some commotion. He trotted around the corner and hesitated at the unexpected scene. Marnie and Gale were rushing from their bedroom to the open window on the opposite side of the hall and back again several times.

“Just toss them out, Gale! We’re but two stories up; they should be fine.”

Marnie was still in her pajamas, and Gale was wearing the clothes he was always seen in. Upon closer inspection, Trevelyan could see they were carrying handfuls of dirt and what looked like worms or small centipedes to the window and dumping them out. Trevelyan gave a sigh of exasperation and relief. At least Sera hadn’t been able to find very big worms. Marnie startled when she almost ran into Trevelyan.

“Am I interrupting something?” he grinned, amused.

“Oh, no, Inquisitor,” Marnie shook her head and walked around him. She pulled the sheets from the bed in a large heap and carried it to the window. “Gale, come take this.”

Trevelyan jumped forward to help. They each held a section on one edge of the sheet—a corner, the middle, and a corner—and shook it out over the window sill. Countless worms, grubs, and centipedes rained on the garden below. At least the garden would be well-staffed if any bugs survived the fall.

“Our bed was wrought with these when I woke this morning,” Marnie explained as she gave the fabric a final shake and gathered it skillfully up again. She and Gale held the sheet flat and began working effortlessly together to fold it again.

“Is that so?” Trevelyan was glad she wasn’t sore about it. “Who could’ve done a thing like that?”

“Oh, no one, I’m sure,” Marnie dismissed good-naturedly. “’Twas probably a nest in the sheets or something.”

As if.

After sorting out Marnie’s bed sheets, Trevelyan went to the tavern. He went upstairs to Sera’s room, where she was still cackling over the incident she undoubtedly caused.

“Did you see the look on her face?” she reeled back.

“Very funny, Sera,” Trevelyan smiled. “You’ll go easier on them from now on, won’t you?”

“Maybe,” Sera smirked.

“So you’ve seen them around, I take it?” Maxwell kept his voice light. No need to inform Sera of the theories just yet. Actually, if she kept a level head, she could play a crucial part in finding out the truth. “How do you find them?”

“Boring,” Sera decided. “Her brother’s weird.”

“What, don’t like having someone closer to your own age to play with?” Trevelyan teased, and she looked like she might gut him.

“Nope,” she declared. “Did you know that he doesn’t sleep?”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve said, Sera.”

“Yeah? I had to wait until he went out to feed the animals before I could do it. I was up all night practically ‘cause every time I checked in, he was there. Awake. Sat in a chair by the bed.”

“Is that right?” Trevelyan didn’t know what to think. Maybe Gale couldn’t sleep that night. Or maybe Sera had mistaken him for being awake. Trevelyan didn’t want to doubt her eyes, of course, but given their mutual experience with the two, it was no wonder why Sera sounded indignant.

-

Trevelyan decided the best way to uncover the truth was to isolate Gale, if at all possible, to see how he’d act away from Marnie. If things went well, Trevelyan might be able to question him politely and in a tactful, not totally obvious way. However, such a task was easier said than done. Ever since they arrived at Skyhold, Marnie and Gale had been all but joined at the hip; Trevelyan had never seen them separately, at least. If Iron Bull’s theory had any merit, such behavior didn’t bode well. If Trevelyan could get Gale alone, he was sure he’d be able to put some of their fears to rest.

The Inquisitor knew this was a bold accusation, but if ever there was a problem with his companions, he did all he could to help. He didn’t want to think ill of Marnie, but he needed the full story before he made a decision. If only Cole were here. He’d be able to tell Trevelyan all he needed to know in an instant with his peculiar mind-reading abilities. If Gale was a slave, it would cause him some pain that called to Cole, right? Cole and Solas would be back soon, but Trevelyan didn’t want to wait, nor could he put everything on hold to prove a theory. They had to act normal, and part of that was continuing the Inquisition’s efforts.

When the Inquisitor heard word from Crestwood and got the approval from his advisers to travel, he drew up a party with the intent to leave in the morning. He just needed to convince Marnie to let him take Gale along without her.

Trevelyan found her in the pen beside the stables. It looked like they were exercising the elk. Gale sat awkwardly on the red elk’s back while Marnie watched from the fence with her arms folded. Her posture was laid back, but she was still visibly tense as she watched Gale struggle to control the indifferent elk.

“She won’t mind me, Marnie!”

Gale tugged fruitlessly at the reins. The elk indeed paid him no mind as she nibbled at the grass, slowly walking herself into a corner of the pen and staying there as long as it suited her. Marnie uncrossed her arms with a sigh, looking disappointed but not surprised. She’d hoped that a few good practice sessions would make Gale an independent rider, but no amount of pushing, shoving, tugging, tapping, or treating made the elk any more receptive to Gale’s commands.

“I know, Gale,” Marnie sighed. She walked over to them. “Dismount for now. We’ll try again later.”

She took the reins from Gale and held the elk in place while Gale threw his leg over the front of the saddle and jumped down. The Inquisitor watched the interaction and leaned against the fence.

“Marnie,” Trevelyan called.

“Inquisitor,” Marnie glanced over her shoulder and pulled the elk along to meet him. “Some need of me?”

“Just checking in to see how things are,” Trevelyan replied. “It occurs to me I’ve overlooked you two a bit over the last few days.”

“’Tis no bother,” Marnie dismissed.

Trevelyan watched her straighten the blanket on the elk’s back for a moment.

“Actually,” Trevelyan began. “I’m taking the group to Crestwood over the next few days, and I think Gale’s healing and enchanting magic will come in handy.”

“More Rifts?” Marnie sighed. She and Gale both looked at him now.

“Among other things. We also need to hold the area, collect resources and the like.”

“Alright. When will we be leaving?”

“Actually, I was thinking...” Trevelyan’s stomach clenched. He glanced at the stable, just to get away from their intense stares. “A smaller party is better, at least until we have a better idea of the area. I’m already bringing Varric and Bull. We need a mage to go along, so I was hoping....”

“You want to bring Gale alone.”

The way she said it made Trevelyan brace for an “absolutely not,” or perhaps a “where he goes, I go, end of story.” However, when nothing of the sort came, Trevelyan continued.

“Well. Yes, if it’s possible,” he said, maintaining his posture carefully so he was neither imposing nor timid. “He’s been able to take care of himself so far.”

“I don’t know how that would....” Marne shared a look with Gale. Gale gave Trevelyan a look he didn’t expect and never forgot. Curious... startled, but adamant. It only made Trevelyan more intent on separating the two.

“You know we’ll be careful,” Trevelyan persuaded. Saying such things to her after how she’d acted in the Storm Coast seemed ironic, but he had to convince her.

Marnie hadn’t looked away from Gale, and now Gale was looking back at her.

“Can you?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gale replied matter-of-factly.

Finally, Marnie agreed.

“He’ll be ready tomorrow, Inquisitor,” she said. “If anything happens to him, we’re leaving. I’ll not serve an incompetent Inquisition.”

“I understand completely,” Trevelyan nodded. He had the urge to ask Gale to speak on the matter, but he decided not to push his luck. Marnie’s consent was precarious enough as it was.

-

The next morning, Trevelyan assembled the expedition party to leave. They planned to leave in the company of another set of Inquisition scouts bringing refreshed supplies to the already established camp in Crestwood. The entire traveling party would include a horse-drawn cart of supplies and people on foot. The journey would be slower-going but the best option available given Gale couldn’t ride by himself.

Marnie saw them off at the gate before they left. She checked the straps on Gale’s satchel and glanced at the red gem at the top of his staff. Once certain that everything was in order, she grasped his shoulders.

“Behave,” she said. “Follow the Inquisitor like you’d follow me, understand? Don’t let any harm come to him. Do as your told, and be careful. Take care of the others, and pray, come back to me alive.”

It wasn’t the look of a sister she gave him. Nor the look of a lover, or the look of a master to even their finest servant. And Gale returned the look in kind, although to a slightly muted degree.

“Understood,” Gale’s words sounded heavy and resolute. Was this a part of their culture? To bid each other farewell so intimately? Marnie looked sternly at Trevelyan.

“I doubt I have to warn you of what will become of you if any harm comes to him,” she said, amused.

“We’ll be fine,” Trevelyan gave a lukewarm assurance.

-

Their journey to Crestwood took three days travel. With so many people, tents, and supplies among them, Gale was easily overlooked. He never ate with the others, and at all hours of the night, anyone could see the glow of a lantern within his tent. No one kept a close eye on him, though. He was a quiet, independent young man, so no one thought to fuss over him as Marnie probably did. That is, until they accidentally left him behind one morning after packing up their camp. The group only faltered when they saw Gale sprinting over a hill after them. The Inquisitor made sure to look at him every so often after that.

Once they were in Crestwood, he’d be easier to keep track of. The Inquisitor’s party was smaller to begin with, and they needed each other more in the field than they did when they were traveling. Even so, Trevelyan was beginning to regret his promise of responsibility for the boy.

“Put on your coat,” Trevelyan said incredulously as Gale simply stared at the sky as a generous storm began dumping rain on the Inquisition camp.

Trevelyan grabbed rations of supplies at the camp to avoid hovering over Gale. They hadn’t been here five minutes and he already knew why Marnie worried so much.

“Inquisitor?” Varric joined him with an amused look on his face. “Did Marnie give you a talk before letting you take him?”

He nodded to Gale. Now the boy was standing at the very edge of camp, looking straight back the way they came as if he was watching for something.

“Yes,” Trevelyan admitted tersely. “I’m beginning to think I’m not cut out for babysitting.”

Not that the Inquisitor was perfect, but his doubt in this area was uncalled for, in Varric’s opinion. He handled Sera and Cole just fine and did his best to keep his other companions content. Still, with the events of their trip so far, his fear was probably a bit justified.

“Don’t worry; I’ll help you keep an eye on him,” Varric volunteered. “You just get us where we’re going, and Gale will make sure we all get there in one piece.”

“Thanks, Varric.” Trevelyan gave him a relieved smile, but he didn’t let himself off the hook entirely. He made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

-

During her alone time in Skyhold, Marnie tended the elk, did a few chores, and lied much lower now that she didn’t have Gale accompanying her. She almost didn’t know what to do with herself; she hadn’t had a day without Gale for years. Certainly she missed him. She enjoyed herself, too. She spent some time with the leftover companions and spent her evenings in the tavern, people-watching and enjoying the atmosphere in the hopes it would make her less lonely. A few days after the Inquisition left, Marnie still maintained this routine.

Solas rarely found himself in the Herald’s Rest, but he made an exception this evening. He and Cole had returned from their trip that afternoon, and Solas had gone to the attic hours later to see how Cole was doing after such a long and isolating journey. Solas couldn’t find the boy anywhere, which was actually a good sign. As soon as they’d entered the gates, Cole began muttering excitedly about everything to be done in Skyhold. He was already ghosting about helping people now. Solas was glad the trip hadn’t worn on him. At first he was worried that letting Cole accompany him would distract the boy, but Cole took the opportunity to tend to the thousand small things he could in the small settlements they’d only passed by when the Inquisitor led them through the area.

Solas was just descending the final flight of stairs when something—someone—caught his eye. A woman he’d never seen before leaned against the closest wall with her arms crossed. She wore a tunic with a slit and corded collar that exposed the tip of a presumably garish scar on her chest. She scanned the tavern, having taken no notice of Solas at all despite his staring.

That woman?! Solas hesitated and stared at her in disbelief. He’d never seen her before, but he had a feeling he knew her, or of her, based on the scar alone and some compelling aura she radiated. Why was she here? And why was she unattended? Could she truly be what Solas thought she was if she was alone?

Solas approached her casually. “Excuse me.”

Marnie looked up. She didn’t recognize him, but he was definitely speaking to her.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“No, my apologies for staring. I simply don’t think I’ve seen you in Skyhold before.”

“We were just recruited,” Marnie confirmed. Now that she spoke at length, he heard more of her definite accent.

“We?”

“Oh,” she seemed to realize she was alone. “My companion Gale is with the expedition party in Crestwood.”

“So you’re inner circle members as well?” Solas raised his eyebrows. So they were separated now. Solas might’ve been mistaken. Still, even if she was a deserter, it would be best to make sure. “Then I’m sure we’ll be working together. My name is Solas.”

“Marnie,” the woman smiled. “Care for a drink?”

“No, thank you,” Solas declined. “I don’t drink.”

“Then I’ll walk you out,” Marnie pushed off the wall. “If you’ll have me. ‘Tis no trouble.”

“That is ideal, actually,” Solas agreed. She seemed adamant to make a good first impression on her associates. Perhaps it was a trait of Gransian culture; she didn’t appear to be flirting with him. “I was going to retire to my solar for the evening, if you’d like to speak somewhere quieter?”

“Sounds good,” Marnie nodded, and they left the tavern behind them.

Marnie hovered outside the tavern door and drew a lantern before walking side by side Solas across the yard. They chatted on their way through the main hall.

“You were in the Hinterlands studying artifacts, were you not?” Marnie asked.

“I was,” Solas nodded. “Though I’m not the Inquisition’s primary researcher in such studies. My specialty lies in studying the Fade.”

“The Fade?” Marnie’s eyes widened. “What have you learned?”

Solas opened his mouth, but chuckled. “That’s a broad question, I’m afraid.” He looked at her. She didn’t bear the fear or boredom in her eyes that some people had when talking about the Fade. She seemed eager, and entirely serious in that eagerness. “Where did you say you were from?”

“Gransys,” she replied. “Across the sea. Though we call it the Rift there.”

“Ah,” Solas couldn’t hold his smile. “Are your people always so accepting of the Fade?”

“Er... not all of them,” Marnie admitted. “But I’m far from the only one so inclined.”

They were in the solar now, and Marnie took a good look of the place. The circular room served as the ground floor to the wing that included the library. The walls were all painted either in blocks of solid color or in stylized, blocky murals. She could see why Gale told her the place was pretty.

“Would you care for some tea?” Solas offered. “I personally don’t prefer it, but I’d put some on for the sake of hospitality.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Marnie declined, still looking at the murals, trying to decipher a deeper possible meaning to the abstract images and colors. She saw art of this caliber so rarely in Gransys. “You were saying about the Fade....”

Solas’s voice was more reserved when he answered. “You have questions, I’m sure. But what do you hope to seek on the mainland that you couldn’t in your home country, Arisen?”

Marnie turned slowly, deliberately. She didn’t want to appear vulnerable or afraid, but she certainly didn’t want to keep her back turned to him. Now that they were alone, she supposed she could drop the decorum for a moment.

“You say my title as if it’s a bad word, Solas.”

-

If the Storm Coast was unfavorable, Crestwood was worth loathing. The valley was usually mild-weathered and relatively tame wildlife-wise. However, ever since the Breach, when a Fade Rift opened up beneath the vast lake, the area had been under a constant downpour of rain and fraught with demons that came in herds from the depths. If they could drain the lake, then maybe the Inquisitor could reach the Fade Rift to seal it. Either way, they had an area to hold and dangers to brave, so they wasted little time.

The Inquisitor’s party traveled along the easternmost half of the map from the village, sealing Rifts and collecting resources for requisitions as they went. If everything went according to plan, they’d claim the area and find where Hawke and his Grey Warden friend were hiding out. However, the wilds of Crestwood were proving to be a greater challenge than Trevelyan expected. Among the heinous weather and endless monsters, there were also rumors of bandits and a damn dragon to worry about.

This was not a good time or place to be mucking about, and it was decidedly not the ideal place to bring Gale by himself. His wandering and absentmindedness, hitherto unnoticed by the Inquisitor, were constant factors to contend with when they weren’t in a fight. Not to mention his usual behaviors. Trevelyan didn’t think he’d said a word to any of them as long as they’d been on the road.

“It’s convenient having a healer in the party,” Trevelyan started when they’d reached a calm spot. “We don’t have to worry about being stranded with injuries due to running out of healing potions.”

“Ought you carry more, then?” Gale asked, then looked away with a chagrined then almost bored look on his face. “No, forgive me.”

One of Trevelyan’s eyebrows lowered. “There’s nothing to forgive, Gale. And we don’t because they’re rationed at our checkpoints. Everyone can only take so much when we have entire forces to provide for—Inquisitor included.”

Gale didn’t say anything after that and followed them further down the path.

A Rift stood right on the cusp of the cliffs not far from Caer Bronach. The minute the group approached, the Rift opened and eight creatures materialized from the light. Four wraiths, four lesser shades, a corpse, and an Arcane horror that towered over all of them.

There was no higher ground, so Gale and Varric just stayed as far back as they could. At least without disruptions in the terrain, they could all keep each other in sight. Gale worked quickly as always, enchanting weapons, starting with the Inquisitor. Then he cast a healing spell near Trevelyan to repel demons and keep him relatively unharmed throughout the battle. After that, the boy was dangerously unoccupied and grew careless.

Iron Bull targeted the Arcane horror, since he probably had the most force and was less likely to be overtaken by it. Trevelyan and Varric tackled picking off the “lesser” demons, though it was still a formidable job on its own. After several minutes spent relocating to avoid being overwhelmed by the shades and only one wraith killed to show for it, Trevelyan realized they were outnumbered and ill-prepared for this kind of fight. They needed to retreat before things got ugly.

Trevelyan impaled another wraith, but the four shades rushed him before he could even shout the orders. Gale saw him struggling and made a beeline for them.

“I’m coming to help!” he shouted.

Trevelyan’s eyes darted to Gale before he reflexively shielded his face from a column of flame. The demons drew back for only a moment, a brief moment which Trevelyan took full advantage of. Trevelyan saw Gale intoning another spell and flailed a hand urgently.

“Gale, get back!” he barked, but the mage wasn’t listening to him. Was he out of his mind?!

Three of the shades had braved crossing the dying flame to drive Trevelyan back, whilst the fourth lunged at Gale. Gale staggered just out of reach of the demon’s claws but dangerously close to the cliff’s edge.

Trevelyan didn’t see what happened until he heard Gale’s scream. Trevelyan reflexively tore his eyes away from the shades to the source of the sound, then his blood ran cold.

Gale was suspended off the ground, still impaled by the shade’s claws. Blood dripped to the ground in small pools, but Gale was still conscious and lucid as he feebly grasped the shade’s arms, trying to pry himself free. The shade released him, throwing him into the abyss below. Gale saw the cliff face ascending beside him, and the dark sky above grow darker and darker. He could barely hear Trevelyan screaming in horror before he hit the ground.

“No!” Trevelyan screamed over the edge of the cliff as the boy’s mangled body collided with and skidded down the cliff face and tumbled among the jagged rocks at the bottom. Pale, bloody, bent and torn so extremely and still and Trevelyan could swear the stench of death reached him from so far away. Dead, there was no way he wasn’t—

A final thing before they fled. Trevelyan saw the blinding green light of a Rift open up at the base of the cliff next to Gale. Tendrils of light from the Rift wrapped around Gale’s body, and he seemed to dissolve into them. His remains disappeared into the Rift before Trevelyan could even blink. The horror of the scene shocked him into complete silence.

They couldn’t even recover his body.

Trevelyan’s attention was only brought back to the battle when he heard a sharp crunch of metal against flesh and bone behind him. When he looked back, he saw Iron Bull swinging wildly at the remaining shades, driving them away more than intentionally hitting them. Once the shades gave just enough quarter for them to slip past, Iron Bull grabbed the Inquisitor’s shoulder, pulled him to his feet, and began running.

After what happened, they all knew they had to get out of there. Even if they could handle the remaining hoard, Trevelyan was compromised by what he’d seen, and he probably wasn’t the only one. Had Iron Bull not heard him shout, Trevelyan would’ve been eviscerated by the shades just as Gale had been.

The three of them were finally well on the move. Iron Bull risked a glance over his shoulder; a few of the monsters gave chase, but they were slow, and they eventually broke off and retreated back to the Rift. The Rift was still strong, the area still untamed, and the mission failed. All they could do now was run.

-

Marnie dropped the armload of tack she’d been carrying into the stable and tripped over it. The horses in the stalls whinnied in surprise at the noise, one of them even kicking the side of the stall in warning. Marnie got her legs beneath her and appraised the small scrapes on her palms. What had come over her all of a sudden?

“You alright?” Blackwall asked, abandoning his carving momentarily to help her to her feet.

“Thank you,” Marnie accepted his help without a fuss and even let him help gather the tack she’d dropped. After draping the blanket and bridle over the designated rack on the wall, Marnie leaned against one of the support beams of the stable to catch her breath.

Whatever spell had come over her, she felt fine now. No dizziness, no ache in her chest or her head. Perhaps she’d just lost her balance and the fall startled her. She clenched and unclenched her fists, letting the sharp pain in her palms ground her. She just needed to wait a few more days, then the others would return with Gale.

-

The Inquisitor, Iron Bull, and Varric didn’t stop running until they reached the Inquisition camp, and by that time, Trevelyan was overcome with a bizarre numbness that made him nearly faint. He’d seen death before—constantly, now—but he’d never seen one of his companions die, not truly. All he’d seen before were nightmares and hallucinations perpetuated by whatever demons, both literal and metaphorical, he faced. This had to be just another dream. A trick the demons played on them. Of course—that’s why Gale disappeared into that Rift like he did. Because it wasn’t real.

No. Trevelyan knew he couldn’t even entertain the thought. All he knew was that Gale was dead and now the demons might have a use for dead bodies.

The Inquisition officers were all receptive of the group’s distress as soon as the trio reached the camp. A few of them made sure each party member was not fatally injured at least, and one left for Skyhold on horseback immediately after Trevelyan gave them a rushed but mostly coherent report of what went down. After that, the three were left in peace to rest, and they just... sat by the fire.

Trevelyan felt ill. The image of Gale falling off the cliff wouldn’t leave his head, not to mention the sight just moments before that. Trevelyan shut his eyes and shook his head in frustration. Could the Inquisitor call off their expedition for another day? Over a death? Was that unreasonable? They needed to move forward; they still had to seal the Rift under the lake and find the Grey Warden. This was unacceptable, he had to work harder. But... without a mage, he didn’t know how the party would fair, and they were at a disadvantage as it was. He could send for one of the others in Skyhold, but at that point, it would save more time and resources to just go home and come back another day as Trevelyan first considered.....

No one spoke. They didn’t even glance at each other. Whatever they were going to do, they were content to not do it for a while now. Hours passed, and the shock began to give way to undeniable weariness. Trevelyan seemed content to stew in his own guilt for as long as it plagued him, whilst Iron Bull was a resolute kind of quiet—the kind one couldn’t disturb even if they tried. Varric was the first to speak, because he felt like someone eventually had to.

“How’re you holding up, Boss?” he asked quietly. He knew the Inquisitor had seen the worst of the incident.

“I’m not sure.” Trevelyan sighed. Then he deflected. “You?”

Varric didn’t want to say, Well, it was a shitty day, that’s for sure, but that’s how it felt at this point. Varric was as troubled by the incident as the other two, but he wanted to know how they were going to deal with this. Would Trevelyan force them on and regard Gale’s death as a fair casualty, or would his humanity get the better of him?

“What are we going to tell Marnie?” Trevelyan breathed.

He couldn’t imagine her reaction. Would she weep and wail and crumple like they’d seen so many mothers and wives do when their families were lost to war, accidents, and raids? Or would she steel herself and glare at Trevelyan and shove him out of her way as she stormed to the stables and left Skyhold and the Inquisition forever? Or... would she possibly attack from rage? She wouldn’t be left alive if she laid even a scratch on the Herald of Andraste. Neither of them would relish more death, but then again, maybe death would release her from her grief....

“The truth,” Varric finally said, poking the fire. “We have to tell her what happened, then deal with whatever comes next.”

“I can’t be here,” Trevelyan finally said. Whatever excuse he could come up with sounded shallow and insincere—they need a mage, so they might as well retrieve one themselves? He was full of shit. But he needed to get out of here. “I’m sorry for dragging you three out here for nothing, but....” He took a deep breath. “I think... after what happened, it’s best that we return to Skyhold for the time being.”

“Sounds good to me,” Varric nodded. Even Iron Bull relaxed, marginally.

-

Marnie lied flat in her bed staring at the ceiling. She’d slept well up until now, but the last couple of nights, she felt progressively more troubled. Perhaps timing bothered her; she hadn’t spent more than an evening away from Gale before now, and it’s been days. She found herself falling into an irksome but inevitable worrying. Were they safe? Was Gale taking care of everything he was supposed to? They’d been so careful up until now, and Marnie just started trusting the Inquisitor enough to let him take Gale alone.

Marnie had to get out of bed. She’d memorized her bedroom fairly well already, so she didn’t bother lighting a candle. She had no trouble finding her travel bag by the foot of the bed and rifling through its contents with touch alone as her guide. Her fingers clasped one of several smooth metal medallions that fit nicely in her entire palm. Maybe this would help put her at ease until Gale returned.

When she returned to bed, she lied flat staring at the ceiling again, clutching the cool, metal badge of vows to the scar on her chest. Her eyes closed.

Please come home safe to me.

-

The Inquisitor’s party traveled in a silence that was both tense and exhausted. While it was true that Gale was only with the Inquisition for a short time, Trevelyan thought they were well on their way to Gale and Marnie being another indispensable part of the group. Gale did not deserve to die like he did, and the Inquisitor hadn’t the energy to doubt Marnie now.

When they reached Skyhold, the sun was setting. Trevelyan absentmindedly dismounted his horse and left it with a stable boy. He was jolted back to the present when he felt Iron Bull clap a hand rather gently on his shoulder.

“You good, boss?” Even his voice was quieter than usual. Trevelyan only nodded.

“I’m going to find Marnie,” Trevelyan said. “Let her know what... happened.”

“Do you think Red kept it from her?” Iron Bull asked.

“I want to speak with her either way,” Trevelyan straightened, the steadfastness of a leader reentering his persona. “See how she’s dealing with all of this.”

He accepted Iron Bull’s wish of luck and headed to the residential dorms. He went upstairs and down the hall to Marnie’s quarters. Whatever speech he was preparing left his mind as he approached the door and heard her distinctly speaking on the other side.

“Well, you’ve gotten us into a burden of trouble, but you’re safe, and that’s what matters.”

“I deeply apologize, Marnie, I didn’t—”

That voice!

Trevelyan burst through the door without knocking or thinking. He had to be sure this was real. The denizens within—Marnie and Gale, he hadn’t been mistaken!—froze and stared at him in a fashion Trevelyan had only seen in prey animals up until now.

Gale was there. Gale, he was here, he was safe, but how? And how was he so healthy? Not even a scratch on him, no wounds, not even a hair out of place. And Marnie looked as guilty as ever. Trevelyan shut the door behind him and stared at them in shock, disbelief, and maybe even a little offense.

Marnie stood up straight and shoved Gale behind her.

“Inquisitor, this isn’t what it looks like,” she started. What did this look like? Blood magic? Necromancy? Could necromancy procure results like this? She didn’t know.

“Gale?” Trevelyan could only look past Marnie in bewilderment, horror, awe, and relief at the mage gazing sympathetically back at him. Sympathy? How could Gale conjure sympathy after what had happened?

“What exactly are you playing at, Marnie?” Trevelyan demanded. “Do you have any idea what we just went through?!”

“Yes, Gale told me everything already. He didn’t do anything—”

“I know he didn’t,” Trevelyan stood tall once more. “What about you?! I know you’ve been hiding something from the very beginning, but I never thought it would be something like this.”

Marnie’s expression changed to one of confusion. “What?”

“Drop the act. I know you both aren’t brother and sister. And I was never convinced you had a magical bone in your body, yet you’ve clearly proven me wrong. What is this, anyway?”

He didn’t bother trying to talk to Gale because he knew he wouldn’t get anymore out of him now than he ever did. This time, Trevelyan looked at Marnie alone.

“How did you bring Gale back from the dead?”

“Inquisitor, please,” she begged. “I can explain, I swear to you.”

“You will,” Trevelyan said sternly. “You’ll explain this entire situation before my advisers and I, and then we will all decide what is to be done with you two.”

Marnie gave a tired, relieved sigh. Before they were escorted out of the room, she spared one last glance with Gale, who gave her a reassuring look.

“’Tis the best way that could’ve gone, I suppose,” he offered diplomatically. In spite of the situation, Marnie couldn’t bring it in herself to be cross with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know using in-game terms kinda annoys you guys, but I decided to keep “inner circle” because I couldn’t think of a better way to distinguish the companions in the story? They’re not really the Inquisitor’s “friends” at first; their relationship is more businesslike. And “companions” is such an intimate word for party members. And “party members” is too self-aware, and nobody says that in real life. Ok, I’ll stop now, but you get my point.  
> Also, thank you for the reviews! They're all much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Codex Entry: "Arisen" and the Pawns that aid them.

Marnie felt like she was on trial as she stood in the war room before Trevelyan, Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen. She'd never experienced such a thing; even courts in Gransys were a joke. The suspect would usually be held in prison or in their own home while evidence was collected for their acquittal or conviction. The system was easily cheated, and Marnie had only ever used that for her own gain. She now prayed the Inquisitor was a more impartial judge than she.

"Gale," Marnie turned her head slightly to indicate the man standing just behind her. "You may stop pretending now."

Gale exhaled, like he was allowed to relax for the first time since they'd been recruited. The tension in his shoulders eased, but his face became a stern, almost expressionless mask.

"Thank you, Master," he breathed.

Trevelyan looked at Josephine, who was holding a fresh quill to paper, ready to record everything said. Josephine nodded, and Trevelyan turned back to Marnie.

"Marnie, I'll give you this one chance to explain yourself. Tell me what you both truly are, how you brought Gale back from the dead, and what you're really doing here."

Marnie took a deep breath to collect herself, then began her winding confession.

"Every few years in Gransys, the great dragon will descend from the heavens and ravage our country. There are those who call him Grigori, for he is a harbinger of disaster. In his time, monsters overpopulate and are driven from the mountains, they take over the roads, trade and travel all but cease, and countless people die. 'Tis why we've only struggled as a country. 'Tis why sea monsters keep any ships from out ports. Not to mention the destruction the Dragon himself causes afore he finds his champion."

She placed her hands on the table and looked slowly among the others.

"This dragon will choose the first person bold enough to stand up to him and try to put an end to his terrorizing reign. Petty insects, most of them, in comparison to him. But the Dragon never takes account of their physical ability; 'tis their will that entreats him. One who shows they have the will to face the Dragon and any potential dangers along the way will be selected. And this champion would be known by their mark—a scar the Dragon leaves behind when he steals their heart from their breast. They are hailed then as the next Arisen."

Trevelyan crossed his arms. "And what does this story have to do with you?"

"I am such a one," Marnie tugged the collar of her shirt down to bare the large scar on her chest in its entirety. "I truly am Arisen. I'm not the first, nor will I be the last. But the Dragon chose me, and he waits for me in Gransys. I'll not age 'til I face him, and I am the _only_ one who _can_."

"Then why are you here in Thedas?" Cullen asked. "I doubt being the Arisen has much to do with Orlesian politics and trade."

"I came for knowledge," Marnie said, beseeching for understanding. "When I heard Thedas had dragons, I came to see them. To know whate'er they know about the Dragon or the eternal ring. At the very least, I could better learn how to face a _dragon_."

Her gaze fell to the table. A moment of defeat. Her journeys wore on her, and the Inquisitor wondered how long she'd _been_ the Arisen. She shut her eyes.

"And when I felt the disturbance from the Fade, I was compelled to seek it out. The Dragon and I are so closely tied to the Fade. My coming here was an opportunity to make something right, if not my responsibility. If you won't suffer my company, just send me home to complete my task, for the good of my country as much as anything. 'Tis all I ask."

Her story was far-fetched, but Trevelyan was oddly inclined to believe her. Actually, with everything he'd witnessed in the last few months, he found he believed her wholeheartedly. A glance at his advisers showed he wasn't the only one. So she was selected to fight a dragon in Gransys. That was hardly the most unbelievable thing Trevelyan had heard lately. However, her explanation still left a vital inquiry of his untouched.

"And Gale?" Trevelyan prompted, looking past her at the mage. Gale was only staring intently at the Arisen's back. _He called her his master._

"He's a part of this as well," Marnie glanced over her shoulder and exchanged a look with Gale. One soured with sorrow and possible farewell. Given how people in Ferelden and Orlais reacted to _mages_ , she feared the worst would befall him once his true nature was revealed. Then her expression sobered again, and she looked at his right hand. "Show them your hand."

Gale did as she asked, removing his charcoal-colored glove and holding his hand up, palm-forward. His hand was marred by a pale but vibrant scar curving from his pinky to his wrist. The mark didn't look natural to begin with, but when it nearly seemed to glow in tandem with the scar on Marnie's chest, Trevelyan was convinced of the supernatural significance of the mark.

Gale dropped his hand and replaced his glove. Marnie continued speaking.

"My companion Gale is of the Pawn Legion, a group of people from the Fade whose sole purpose is to aid the Arisen..." She began to trail off, sounding less and less sure of herself, averting her gaze as if in guilt or, at the very least, extreme discomfort.

"Why are you looking away like that?" Leliana asked skeptically.

"Because I feel like I was gaining your favor back for a moment, and I'm going to miss that," Marnie replied quietly.

Trevelyan looked at Gale in some form of shock. "You're from the Fade?"

That explained everything. How Gale oriented around Marnie, how he learned so quickly, how he never slept or ate in the public eye, how he was so easy to overlook. Trevelyan was struck with a realization that Gale was similar to Cole because Gale was _something_ more similar to Cole than any of them had previously considered. All Trevelyan could think now was, _why hadn't he realized before now?_

"Tell us about the Pawn Legion," Josephine prompted. "If they're from the Fade, what are they? Are they spirits?"

"We're _pawns_ ," Gale replied plainly. Since he seemed inclined to defend himself, Marnie let him. "We lack any form of will that compel spirit and human alike. We exist to aid the Arisen, whoever that may be, in every way we can. My people don't know age or death, for when we expire, we simply return to the Fade to be called upon again by the Arisen."

"That's why you didn't die," Trevelyan said.

"They're human in appearance only," Marnie continued. "Soulless husks, I'm told, but they're invaluable. They're expendable, renewable, they learn text and skill more quickly than any human, and they're impeccably resilient. It almost explains their poor self-preservation."

Trevelyan raised his eyebrows.

"And they're bound to you?" he asked.

"Not in the sense of binding _magic_ , no," Marnie replied. "As creatures of the Fade, they're compelled by the Arisen, and they lack the capacity to act alone. Only an Arisen has the will to command them proper, but with the Arisen's hand, they can be an army against the Dragon."

" _You_ have an army of these people?" Cullen leaned forward.

"Well, not exactly," Marnie admitted. "I can only command two or three at a time, otherwise they get too confused to do much. But I have an army to choose from. Each pawn was a personal pawn given to an Arisen at some point in time. Gale is mine."

"So when Gale died," Leliana began, then she amended her statement. "When you saw the Inquisitor return without Gale, _how_ did you call him back from the Fade?"

It seemed unlikely that Marnie opened a Fade Rift in her bedroom, but it turns out that's close to exactly what she did.

"With one of these," Marnie dropped a gray medallion on the table. "In Gransys, Riftstones may act as sanctioned gateways into the Fade, utilized by Arisen and pawns alike. These Riftstones wear over time, and the fragments can be refined into these badges. I was able to open the Fade with one, but only for a short time. Since the Veil is so strong in Skyhold—credit to your elven mage, no doubt—it sealed as soon as Gale came through, but I wouldn't put my faith in that being the case in all of Thedas. The Fade acts differently here; the Veil doesn't tear in Gransys because we have those Riftstones. I have a limited number of these badges, and they're a rarity besides, so whilst Gale is expendable, we need to exercise caution."

Trevelyan took the badge in his hand and turned it over. He wasn't holding it for more than a few seconds before the Anchor sparked loudly and painfully against the metal. Trevelyan gasped and dropped the medallion on the table again, and Marnie hastily collected it. Trevelyan was ready to believe her, but he wasn't about to let her walk free without hearing it from Gale himself. He turned to the pawn intently, and this time Gale looked at him.

"Well, Gale? What do you have to say about all this?"

Gale spoke assuredly. It helped that he was probably expecting to be spoken to now, but dropping whatever act he'd be told to put on made him earnest and not withholding in the slightest. It was refreshing and grounding, given the unthinkable nature of his words.

"All my master told you about the Dragon and the Pawn Legion was true, every word of it," he assured them. "I exist only to aid her in her quest, as does any pawn. But should you wish to take action against her for her situation, I implore you to think of our home country. Without her, no one can successfully fell the beast that plagues Gransys. Upon her death, absence, or inaction, the Dragon will consume Gransys, and possibly worlds beyond. And you would be without the advantage of my master generously aiding the Inquisition."

"And are you happy with your lot?" Trevelyan asked. It was a ghoulish question. He was essentially asking him "are you happy being subject to certain repeated death and facing gruesome horrors." Gale gave him a monotonous, level expression that looked surprisingly well-placed on his face.

"My people are without emotion, or a power of will to drive us," Gale replied casually. "But I _feel_ grateful, and I feel vigor being called by my Arisen. If that pale shadow of feeling is anything in comparison to what you call happiness, then by all means."

The way Gale looked at Marnie then, though she only faced the Inquisitor and didn't see it. The gesture struck a chord with Trevelyan. Gale didn't just want her. He _needed_ her, in his own... strange way. True, the way he oriented _around_ Marnie was a little strange, but it didn't seem nearly as _wrong_ in context. Trevelyan mulled over the information. Marnie had never wronged him, never committed atrocities that he knew of, and it wasn't like they didn't have another _thing_ from the Fade aiding their cause. Right now, Trevelyan was leaning in favor of innocence. It wasn't binding or blood magic, and Marnie seemed she could care less about hampering the Inquisition in any way like they'd expected.

"What do you three think?" Trevelyan looked at the advisers, who'd grown completely silent over the affair.

Leliana spoke first. "My people relayed everything they observed of the both of them to me. I'd begun to suspect Gale was something like Cole some time ago, but without knowing Marnie's full capabilities, I couldn't be sure of it. That being said, we never found signs of disturbance."

Marnie glanced at Gale when the unfamiliar name "Cole" was mentioned, but Gale only gave a small shrug and subtle shake of his head.

"Cullen?" Trevelyan prompted.

"You and I both know they'd be assets," Cullen admitted. "Arisen or not, Marnie and Gale have shown their competence as individuals and as a team. Were it not for all the drama, I'd say you'd be a fool not to keep them both on. But given the state of things, we need assets we can trust completely. It's up to you, Inquisitor."

Trevelyan nodded and moved down the line. "Josephine."

"It's worth noting that Marnie _does_ have a name for herself in Gransys," Josephine said. "She's a herald in her home country; I'm sure she has a formidable status there. If anything _happened_ to her at our hands, we'll make enemies of the entire duchy of Gransys and perhaps a few of their political neighbors."

"Alright, then I guess it's up to me." As everything was. He looked sternly at Marnie and Gale once more. "Alright. You two are staying. I want to confer with Solas to verify your stories about the Fade, but other than that, you're still welcome in the Inquisition."

"Thank you, Inquisitor," Marnie let out a breath. "We won't make any more trouble."

"I'm counting on it," Trevelyan dismissed.

-

As soon as the meeting concluded, Marnie and Gale accompanied Trevelyan to the rotunda to speak with Solas. As Trevelyan relayed the information as clearly as he could, Marnie leaned indifferently against the wall by the doorway while Gale stood in the doorway, staring at Solas. The elf didn't seem surprised in the slightest by what he was hearing. Fascinated and amused, of course, but not surprised. Solas glanced past Trevelyan's shoulder at the Arisen and her main pawn. Marnie looked away stubbornly, whilst Gale nearly flinched, latching onto Marnie's sleeve.

"What do you make of her story?" Trevelyan recalled Solas's attention again. "Marnie said her pawns are from the Fade, but I've never heard you mention anything like them."

And Trevelyan had reason to assume Solas would have, given how much the mage talked incessantly about the Fade and all its wonders.

"If you're asking if I knew of such a thing," Solas began. "No, I didn't. However, the Fade _is_ beyond measure. I've mentioned before that I would need to travel to see all of the Fade. It's not unreasonable to consider that there may be a world and creatures beyond what I've experienced."

"So do you think they're a liability?"

"No. In truth, I'm looking forward to getting to know the both of them personally. If everything she's told us is true, she could bring us a whole new understanding of the Fade, and by extension, the very demons we face."

"Right," Trevelyan nodded. Normally, he'd inquire more, but he didn't have the energy for it tonight. "Let me know if you find anything out."

"Naturally," Solas grinned. He and Trevelyan had already made a private joke out of Trevelyan's insatiable curiosity.

As they parted ways and Marnie stepped out the doorway, Gale lingered within sight of the rotunda and stared at Solas. The man had completely dismissed them, but something about him still compelled Gale to stare. The pawn was so still he was nearly petrified, and he felt such trepidation that he could tremble. He pressed closer to his Arisen, giving her sleeve a tug.

"Master, that man..."

"He won't bother us," she dismissed, but her tone was firm. Whatever contact she'd had with Solas, she must've asserted herself already, at least to make sure they were both safe. Gale didn't doubt her, but he couldn't shake his wariness of the stranger for quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to cut the last chapter and half and present the explanation as a "chapter three-and-a-half." I also just left it alone at 2k because I know that over 6k every chapter is a lot to write and read both, so I figure this would be a nice easy break chapter for all of us. I also didn't mean for the 2k explanation chapter to take so long, but you know. I think quarantine's got me feeling the Big Sad this week.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for all the reviews and follows. I've been trying to implement all the feedback I've gotten even in chapters I've already posted. In truth, I've only played part of Dragon Age: Inquisition and read all of Asunder, so any feedback on the Dragon Age universe is greatly appreciated.


	5. Disingenuous

The next morning began a new metaphorical era for Marnie and Gale. When Marnie woke, she didn’t stress about pretending to be mortal or anything other than what she was. Gale was allowed to do everything he naturally would, and Marnie knew that, whilst he wasn’t very bothered by their act to begin with, it put the pawn more at ease to not have to resist his nature anymore. This morning would be different than any they’d had in Skyhold, yet there was also a lack of change that brought them comfort. Gale resumed his daily wander at dawn, and Marnie got ready for the day and appreciated the brief alone time she was afforded.

Gale saw a few people, but even fewer noticed him. Unlike the Inquisitor, who’d adopted a consistent path in his routine rounds, Gale wandered from place to place with no clear direction except to investigate what interested him. Today he found himself poking around the yard close to the castle after a constant but very faint noise caught his attention. After checking many areas, Gale descended to the Underforge, where the keening sound was loudest. He walked along the walls until he found the source of the sound—guarded by a pile of discarded rubble over an inlet in the stone lay a brood of five mewling kittens crying and crawling over their limp mother cat.

“Poor thing,” Gale whispered as he crouched to get a better look at the makeshift den. He brushed the kittens away. He didn’t have to use that much force; each kitten fit in his palm and weighed nothing at all. He hoped they weren’t already too starved and neglected to recover.

The queen’s breathing was shallow, and she didn’t protest even as Gale pulled her out of the inlet and cradled her in his lap. Perhaps she was ill, injured, or simply exhausted from her life thus far. Either way, Gale worried she wouldn’t improve without some magical intervention.

Heal her, Gale.

Gale heard his master’s command as if she was standing right beside him. That was the nature of their bond—of their connection in all things. He didn’t know where she was or if she could see him now, but he obeyed without a moment’s thought. He had faith in her to guide him ever justly. And who wouldn’t save the cat, had they the ability?

The anodyne healed and revitalized the ailing queen until she sat up and peered at Gale with bright, curious eyes. She looked as if she would open her mouth and speak to him like a creature in an old folktale, and Gale wondered, was that what the saying “cat got your tongue” meant? The cat crawled back into the hovel and began to bathe herself and her kittens. Gale helped her gather the kittens and placed them at her stomach. All the while, the voice of his Arisen continued to accompany him. To comfort him.

She struggles to have them. Struggles to hide them. The world is a cruel place, and you are so small. I must raise you so that one day you can be on your own.

Up on the battlements, Marnie stood alone, a cup of tea in hand as she basked in the amber rays of morning sun. Blackwall found her there and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of her. With her staring vaguely into the abysmal valley outside the hold and speaking to herself, she almost looked like she was under some sort of spell, either magical or one of ailment. His wariness only grew as she spoke, airy and absent, to no one that he could see and yet she seemed to be speaking to everything around them.

“Damn the day, you can’t be alone. Maker, please don’t ever leave me. I must be here for you. The Arisen must oversee the Rift. Would you ever see anything else?”

“Who are you talking to?” Blackwall asked.

She turned then, as if she just noticed him standing there, and smiled. A polite thing. A genuine thing. Blackwall had come to recognize and expect as much from her, but he withheld returning the gesture this time. The unease consumed him until he felt nauseated.

What had the Inquisitor brought into their keep?

Marnie noticed his trepidation and awkwardly debated whether to insist her expression or withdraw to put him at ease. She kept her thoughts to herself, yet they carried. Her thoughts went down to the tavern and touched a young man there, who crouched by a table, speaking quietly but clearly in the morning din.

“The world outside of this is loud pain,” he spoke the thoughts, put them in the world, made them real. “The Maker’s light can’t touch you here. We’re on our own now. I will protect you as I hold watch over you all.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Please don’t leave me. I need you.”

“Are you alright, kid?” Varric asked hesitantly. “You look a little... out of it.”

Cole lowered his head again, as if in a nod. He feels a fiery absent pain in his chest; there’s a harsh taste in his mouth. Was it blood or bile? Then he did something he never did unless explicitly asked... he withdrew. He stopped reaching out to her, abandoned the hurt. He recoiled into himself, still reeling. The pain yet lingers, and he clings to it. He doesn’t want to let it go because it’s so familiar that he knows it is part of who he is.

There was an old song in her. One Cole had never heard, yet it was so familiar. He needed to know more of her. She must know who he is, she had to.

“I am good, Varric,” Cole nodded in earnest this time, just now realizing he was causing the dwarf to worry. He got to his feet and brushed his palms on his pants absently. “The chickens are sad.”

Then he was gone. Varric reluctantly returned to his breakfast and tried not to worry for the boy.

-

After leaving food and water for the cats, Gale continued his walk. His Arisen must be on her way to breakfast at the tavern by now, so he quickly checked on the elk in the stables and headed her way next. Not even halfway out of the stable yard, Gale’s attention was taken by a flock of birds fluttering over Skyhold. Were they heading away for winter or going home, he wondered. The weather was so mild in Gransys that Gale had never had to consider seasons before now.

Distracted as he was, Gale tripped over something in the yard and landed face-down in the dirt. The pawn quickly gathered himself and looked back to see what he’d tripped over. Were he human, he would’ve been mortified to learn he hadn’t tripped over a crate, but a person. A young man.

“Forgive me—” Gale started, but the sight of the boy cleared his mind completely.

The boy was rather gaunt but lively-looking, with straw-like blond hair under a wide-brimmed hat the likes of which Gale hadn’t seen before. A sack of grain lay scattered on the ground beneath them, forgotten, as the young man gaped at Gale, pale blue eyes wide with some emotion Gale couldn’t identify. Then Gale began to mimic the expression, not entirely disingenuous in doing so.

“Cole,” the boy supplied, like he thought Gale had been waiting for such information. “My name is Cole.”

Cole and Gale stared wide-eyed at each other. Neither of them knew quite what to say, but words seemed unnecessary. They acted in a way that was natural to them and only them. They slowly withdrew, untangling legs and bracing themselves upright with their arms. They almost seemed wary of each other, as if they weren’t quite sure what the other might do. Cole timidly reached for Gale, all the while the pawn stood still.

Cole’s pale hands met flesh, solid and soft, and real. Gale leaned into the touch, encouraging it, if Cole would tolerate him.

“You’re like me,” Cole sounded awed, astounded, and afraid. The prospect of meeting something like him was equally exciting and frightening. A thing like him, a thing from the Fade in human form—but what if it was as uncertain of itself as Cole was? What if this thing hurt people? Cole ached for something to identify with but dreaded that same thing being everything Cole feared about himself.

“Yes,” Gale grinned, green eyes bright. He’d never seen a Ferelden pawn before. He raised his right hand to show the pawn mark. “Well met, brother.”

Cole took Gale’s hand in both of his and examined the mark with a thoroughness and concentration that indicated he was very serious in his curiosity. Gale watched him, confused. If Cole wasn’t a pawn, then what was he?

Pretty soon they were both appraising each other in this manner, looking at hands, running fingers through hair, tugging at clothes, and tracing veins in the skin. Anything that made them similar and different, all things that made them real. They were curious about each other, as was their nature. Cole couldn’t stop smiling through the exchange; he was delighted. He’d never seen anything so close to what he was, and so warm and kind at that. He could tell at once, through what he heard and saw, Gale was a healer, and he was here to help. He wasn’t anything like the demons or even the spirits that they encountered here in Thedas. There wasn’t a single cruel part to him. He was like Cole, and he was good. That subtle validation made Cole’s heart ache and flutter all at once. And Gale, of course, felt nothing but intrigue and a definite camaraderie with the spirit all the same.

Gale let his hand drop from where it rested on Cole’s cheek and looked across the yard as if he heard someone calling his name.

“Er, sorry,” Gale straightened and brushed the grain and dust off his robes. “I have to go.”

He stepped forward a couple steps, then he was suddenly gone. Though Cole was alone again too soon, his mouth spread into a wide grin. Gale was like him.

-

Marnie barely glanced over her shoulder when Gale appeared by her side just outside the tavern. They ducked into the tavern and took their usual unassuming place at a table under a wall sconce. Over breakfast, Marnie couldn’t help but notice the subtle change in atmosphere surrounding them. The event on the battlements with Blackwall was proof that word had traveled fast among the inner circle, and their distance was apparent even here.

Marnie braved a glance at the Iron Bull, who was deliberately turned away from her. A turn of Marnie’s head showed Krem sitting across the room, staring surreptitiously at the two of them. He was watching Bull’s back. From them.

Marnie dropped her spoon in her half-empty bowl and stood.

“Let’s go,” she muttered to Gale, who followed her silently.

Scout Harding wasn’t in Skyhold today, and Marnie lamented that. Perhaps Harding would’ve at least spoken to them.

“Wither shall we head?” Gale asked.

“Where are your notes?” Marnie asked.

“I believe I left them in the library.”

“Let’s go then.”

Marnie led him through the main hall and up to the library. As Gale put away the books he’d used for reference, Marnie lingered by a shelf and carded through the pages of the bound, half-blank book Gale had been penning over their weeks at Skyhold. Vivienne seemed to have left her balcony today for a short while in favor of the library. She and Dorian were currently hovering by the railing, chatting quietly but perfectly within earshot of the Arisen.

“... and back from the Fade, as well,” Vivienne was saying. “I’m astounded our Inquisitor let her walk.”

“I’m not,” Dorian chuckled. “ ‘’Tis only blood magic, Inquisitor, no more.’ And what did the boy have to say... a pawn, she called it?”

“Nothing against her, apparently. He had plenty of chances to voice it. He seems content to be subject to her command, whatever whimsical game she’s playing—”

Marnie slammed the book shut. Vivienne and Dorian glanced at her, but she didn’t return the gesture.

“Come on,” she grabbed her pawn by his arm and lead him away.

They left the main hall and crossed the courtyard to the stables. Marnie didn’t speak, and she was glad her pawn didn’t either. She couldn’t stand to be here anymore, not with everyone acting like this. And she’d been so close to finding a place in the group.

A group. She scoffed. To think she’d be ingrained in any company after being taken by the Dragon was pure fantasy. Perhaps the Arisen were destined to keep the company of pawns alone.

Marnie tugged the red elk out of the stables and threw a saddle over its back. Gale gathered their supplies to leave, and the two of them walked with the elk out to the front gate. As they climbed onto the elks back one at a time, Cullen caught sight of them from the edge of the path and waved a hand.

“Going somewhere?” his tone was casual as he approached.

“Why? Making sure we’re not deserting?” Marnie demanded.

“I was... just making conversation,” Cullen replied calmly. “I’m sorry if I offended you last night—”

“Enough. We’re gathering resources.”

Then she clicked at the elk and they darted across the bridge and into the wilds. Gale watched Cullen over his shoulder the entire way.

-

After scouring the frost-bitten forest for a meager supply of herbs and meat, Marnie felt not necessarily better but complacent. The Inquisitor allowed her to stay; she didn’t have to care what the others thought of her. She’d worked alone while being a member of a company under the Duke’s orders several times. If these people chose to reject her now, it was their choice.

When the sun was no longer visible through the dense trees, Marnie and Gale headed back to Skyhold. They turned their findings in to requisitions and the infirmary then retired to the main hall to warm up by the fire. Marnie crouched by the fireplace to put another log on the flames and lingered until her fingertips thawed.

“Are you hungry, Arisen?” Gale asked.

“Not yet,” Marnie dismissed, moving to sit at the table in front of the fire. She tapped the seat of the bench next to her, indicating for Gale to sit. Gale joined her, sitting backwards on the bench and perching one elbow on the table behind him.

“We haven’t reviewed your performance in a while,” Marnie mused, casually folding her arms. “How’d you die in Crestwood?”

“I was thrown from a cliff top,” Gale replied plainly. The memory didn’t pain him at all.

“Why were you so close to the edge?” she asked.

“Inquisitor Trevelyan needed my help. Everyone else was occupied, and he was surrounded.”

“You charged, then?” Marnie sighed. “You’re still a mage. You must be more careful than that.”

“Understood,” Gale nodded. “I’ll endeavor to preserve myself better in battle.”

“Good.”

Gale gazed at her. He looked as if he might ask her something, but he didn’t get a chance to before they were joined by a surprisingly amicable comrade.

“Glad to see you’re both still in one piece,” Varric said as he stepped up to the table. “Mind if I join you?”

Marnie nodded, but gave him a curious, almost reproachful look as he sat across from them. “You’re not angry with me?”

“I was a bit... perturbed. But after the Inquisitor explained what happened, I understand why you did what you did. I couldn’t say the same for the others, though.”

“Did he truly tell the whole Inquisition?”

“Nope,” Varric chuckled. “Just the people you’ll be working with. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the situation.”

“Great,” Marnie huffed when she truly meant ‘a pox on this whole situation.’

Varric’s tone was more serious when he continued. “How are the others treating you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Marnie shrugged. “I assumed most of them would be too angry to talk to me.”

“They’re not all angry with you, Foxfire.”

Marnie raised her eyebrows at the nickname as much as anything. “And for those that are?”

“Just give it time,” Varric assured her. “And look on the bright side. At least now you two can finally be yourselves around us. No facades necessary.”

“That is a bright side,” Marnie gave in with a small smile. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t think of how seeing him die would affect the rest of you.”

“No hard feelings,” Varric dismissed, looking at Gale. “I’m just glad to see him breathing. How are you, kid?”

Gale glanced over his shoulder at Varric, a bit pleasantly surprised at his concern. “I’m fine. ‘In one piece,’ as you said.”

“Good,” Varric didn’t press him. He wasn’t sure he wanted either of them to relive Gale’s last moments in Crestwood for any reason.

“I have him equipped to handle that sort of thing,” Marnie said. “His staff is made of a fragmented Arisen’s heart. ‘Twill keep any pawn from expiring in the field, save for in a few specific situations, such as falling from a high height.”

“I was wondering how that works, actually,” Varric leaned forward and looked at Gale. “So you just... go back to the Fade and Foxfire can bring you back, or what?”

“Yes,” Gale looked over his shoulder again. “The Fade restores us. An Arisen need not worry for us.”

Varric nodded and watched him for another moment. How had Gale kept his secret for so long? How could Varric not connect the dots before now? Then again, Gale seemed a lot more self-aware than Cole, and he did have Marnie taking care of him. But there was something besides that that made Gale unlike Cole on a fundamental level. They were just two different people, Varric decided.

“Gale,” Marnie said quietly.

“Now you want food?” Gale guessed, already getting to his feet.

“Thank you,” Marnie smiled up at him.

She watched him head down the length of the main hall before turning to Varric.

“How was he in Crestwood?” she asked. “He’s never been away from me like that. I want to know how he acted.”

“He was fine,” Varric assured her. “A little aloof, but diligent. He kept our asses alive more often than we deserved.”

“No, I mean did he do anything weird while you were there?”

Varric wasn’t sure how to respond. “Such as...?”

“Nevermind then,” Marnie waved her hand. “I’ll show you if he ever does it again. Although, being away from other pawns for so long may’ve finally trained such behaviors out of him. Shame, really. I was growing fatigued by human behavior.”

“You know, Chuckles is our Fade expert. He might talk your ear off about it, but I’m sure he’d be interested in... whatever you two do.”

“I’m sure,” Marnie rolled her eyes.

“You met him already?” Varric chuckled at her reaction. “Is he too much to take, or did he say something to irritate you?”

“If I wanted to talk about Solas, I’d be speaking with him,” Marnie propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Now, now, you’re not getting away that easy,” Varric said. “What about you and Gale? You think I don’t have questions about an Arisen’s life story?”

“What, are you writing a book about it?”

“I might,” Varric grinned.

Marnie snorted. But she indulged him. It felt good to get it all off her chest after weeks of restraint. They talked back and forth about themselves for a couple hours at least. When Gale brought food and a pitcher of water for the both of them, he left them alone to wander in the courtyard. He knew that his Arisen was in fine company for the evening.

-

During his roving, Gale found Cole in the stable yard, stalking clumsily among the animals in the dark like a poorly-controlled marionette.

“Hoy there,” Gale called quietly, raising a hand to wave at the boy.

Cole straightened, struggling to keep a chicken still in his arms. “Hello again. I didn’t think anyone could see me.”

“What are you doing?” Gale asked, hopping over the low fence to help with... whatever Cole was up to.

“They have a new coop—” Cole flinched as the chicken in his arms started flapping her wings wildly until he released her. Once on the ground, she stood up straight and began wandering the yard, tiptoeing back and forth like she didn’t know where to go. “Wandering, weaving, where should I go to nest? A few of them are lost sometimes, especially at night.”

Gale gave him a curious look, but Cole immediately started rounding up chickens again. Gale watched him for a moment, mimicking how Cole leaned down and scooped the chickens up, before trying his own hand at the activity. The chickens didn’t seem to mind Gale as much. A few of them had nested outside of the coop, but they’d freeze or be hunted before the morning if they were left. After a few minutes of dedicated searching and wrangling, all the chickens were settling down in the coop for the night.

Cole wiped a bloody scratch on his face with the back of his hand, but beamed at Gale. “Thank you.”

Gale wordlessly drew his staff and conjured a spell that bloomed green tendrils from Cole’s chest. Cole startled, but returned to the light not a moment later. It tingled over the scratches and peck marks on his face and hands, caressing, mending, whispering soft words and sweet nothings for a spirit. You’re alright now, you’re alright now, you’re alright now....

The light faded, and Gale put away his staff with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes but was genuine still. The pair moved to sit against the wall of the barn, finding a comforting sort of restfulness in each other’s company. They deserved a calm moment.

“Are you a pawn?” Gale figured he should ask.

“A pawn?” Cole blinked. “I... I don’t know. Is a pawn like a spirit?”

“To some,” Gale shrugged. “We’re of the Fade but bound to the Arisen. Do you have an Arisen? Did you have an Arisen?”

Cole looked troubled. “I don’t remember. Is an Arisen like Rhys?”

“Who’s Rhys?” Gale asked.

“He was a mage. At the Spire,” Cole replied. “He would come to see me sometimes in the dark. Sometimes he was the only one who could see me. But... when he knew I wasn’t real, he stopped.”

Cole was sad. Genuinely sad. Gale watched the boy with unabashed fascination and a little sympathy. Cole obviously didn’t know what it was like being called by an Arisen, at least not now. Regardless of his origin, he wasn’t a pawn, if he ever was one to begin with.

“You are real,” Gale said calmly. He didn’t know how the boy could think otherwise.

Cole smiled at him again. “Thank you. Do you have an Arisen?”

“Of course,” Gale straightened proudly. “’Tis what makes me a pawn. Rhys didn’t know you as an Arisen would; he wouldn’t have left you otherwise.”

“Then... what is an Arisen?”

“Well.. I suppose ‘tis the person who made you. Or pulled you from the Fade.”

“Oh,” Cole shrank. “Yes, I think I did have someone like that.”

“Did they die?” Gale guessed.

“Yes.” Admitting it pained Cole, but he was honest. Luckily, Gale didn’t press the issue further. He’d spoken with many pawns who had lost their masters, and their grief wasn’t trivial. Gale took Cole’s hand reassuringly. Cole looked at him for a moment, but after that, he settled down and relished in the other’s company. He figured this was probably the first time anyone comforted him so intimately since he left Rhys.

-

The next day was busy for some and a hassle for others. Part of the ceiling collapsed in the residential wing, the collapse and repair resulting in some injuries, no deaths, and another stone on the mountain of work for Skyhold’s residents. On top of that, Trevelyan had ordered the Exalted Plains scouted, and requested, (ordered), all of his companions to join him on an expedition there. He hadn’t had a chance to see all of them in one place in a while, he’d claimed, but the others knew that this was mostly a ploy to air out personal grievances with each other in the middle of life-threatening situations as much as it was about holding the area and growing stronger for the return trip to Crestwood.

The day before they left, each of the inner circle members were occupied canceling their other plans and packing their required gear. Vivienne had planned to travel to Val Royeaux in the next few days, so she postponed that. Dorian had hoped to see the next shipment of grooming supplies before his next venture in the wilds of Thedas, but resigned with a heavy heart to just take what remained of his stock. Gale’s hands were tied in the infirmary, so Marnie took responsibility for both her and Gale’s supplies. She packed curatives, the tent, a few extra supplies for the elk, and left a standing order with the kitchens that if a crate of Gransian wines were delivered for her to just store them and not touch them.

Marnie ran into Dorian just as she was leaving the kitchens.

“So, Arisen,” Dorian greeted her.

“What?” she returned defensively.

“Just trying the title out is all,” he replied with a grin. He seemed to be goading her, but she didn’t know if he was doing it to be cruel or not. “It sounds quite heroic. Maybe enough to rival ‘the Herald of Andraste.’”

Marnie could’ve been angry with him, but she knew being callous was not going to help her situation.

“Are you suggesting I ask for a promotion?” she asked. “Might be a little backhanded, given what just happened.”

Dorian shrugged. “You’re not the only blasphemous one here. After all what’s a Tevinter mage doing here fighting against an army of Tevinter forces?”

Marnie didn’t know what to say.

“I’m trying to reassure you,” Dorian clarified with a playful glint in his eye. “Let me know if it’s working.”

“I might,” Marnie slowly grinned back.

He nodded politely and walked around her to the kitchen. Marnie went to the stable to check the elk’s saddle and bridle to ensure they were in working order before tomorrow. As soon as she stepped in the door, however, all thoughts of the saddle left her mind. A man stood in the center of the aisle, leaning on one of the stall doors with an armful of hay. Once she saw him, she froze, and him likewise. His quiet voice trailed off, (had he been speaking to the horses?), and the spare straw trickled from his arms onto the barn floor.

The instant Cole saw her he was shaken to his very core. Words wove and images flourished in his mind as he staggered towards her. The woman with the scar. The scar for her heart. The heart for the Dragon, the Dragon from beyond this—he knew her. And she knew him, she had to!

Marnie sensed there was something not entirely common about him. She’d recognized this before in countless pawns, but why was this—why was he here? And why was he looking at her with such awe and astonishment that surely only a human being—someone who could truly feel—could convey? He must’ve been old to have perfected emotional responses to such a degree. No, there was something to him. A spark that drove him yet.

“You’re here,” Cole spoke boldly but breathlessly. “Empty, but whole.... More, more, you’re more than the others....” He looked up at her, and she was caught by his expressive, light blue eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he broke into a delighted yet trembling grin. “You know me.”

Marnie blinked and appraised him. “Are you... you’re not a pawn...”

She sounded uncertain even as she said it. Without thinking, she gently took his wrist inched the bottom of his fingerless glove up to expose his palm. He didn’t have a mark like Gale’s. Had he been made human? Marnie dropped his hand and took his face. Cole leaned into the touch, still gazing at her affectionately.

“Do you know who I am?” she questioned.

“You are the heartless, heralding, helpless until they come to you...” Cole replied confidently. “Ones like me. People from the Fade who help people. You were stolen from by the dragon, yet it made you into something more. I...”

His confidence faltered drastically when her expression was not one of recognition but confusion. But she could see him! She must’ve been something. He looked down, his face shielded by the brim of his hat.

Cole’s fingers kneaded wistfully against her shirt, as if he didn’t want to leave her. “I’m sorry. Forget.”

Even though he said it with conviction, she remained there, and so did he.

“Forget what?” she tilted her head to get a better look at him. Cole looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. Marnie’s eyes narrowed, and the corner of her mouth tucked downward, but she remained patient with him. “Let’s begin anew. Have you a name?”

“I am Cole,” Cole replied, his voice as melodic and gentle as before. “Most people can’t see me. And most people forget me when I tell them to. You’re different, but... I don’t know why.”

Cole, she remembered the name from the war room. That explained everything.

“You’re of the Fade, aren’t you?” she asked. “Leliana mentioned you.”

“Yes,” Cole nodded, some of his confidence returning. “Gale is, too. I think I’m like him. You’re his. Arisen.”

He tested the word, pronouncing each syllable carefully like it was a brand new word to him. A common word given new meaning.

“The word lingers on my tongue like the sweet taste of honey. How have I been, and never known this before?” He looked up at her imploringly. His expression betrayed his thoughts, Where have you been?

“The Dragon doesn’t usually take champions from the mainland,” Marnie replied.

“The Dragon?” Cole questioned. “But we have plenty of dragons here.”

Marnie thought of what to say, but before she got the chance, Cole was speaking again, his gaze darting absently to the ceiling like he didn’t want to get distracted.

“No. Beating wings, crimson scales. It speaks in the tongues of demons—it must be a demon. It speaks?” Cole looked confused. “’Tis... speaking?”

He got distracted after all. Marnie chuckled.

“’Tis your first time meeting someone from Gransys, I take it?” she asked.

“Yes,” Cole looked back at her. “But I won’t let it get in the way. I’ll get better. Will you take me?”

“Take you?”

“Like you took Gale!” Cole supplied. “And others like him. I can help you. You can tell me what to do!”

“Oh?” Marnie raised her eyebrows in amusement. So he meant he’d accompany her. In companionship and service, like a true pawn.

“Yes, you can command me. I’ll try my hardest... Arisen.”

A smile tugged at Marnie’s lips. “Alright, you may stay with me for as long as you like. Just don’t make trouble.”

“I won’t,” Cole returned the smile.

-

“Oh, you’ve found each other.”

Gale pushed off the outer wall of the infirmary as Marnie and Cole approached. Cole and Gale waved at each other.

“How’s work?” Marnie asked.

“A beam in the residential wing collapsed,” Gale replied. “A few broken bones, some burns, no dead. Everyone involved is either walking again or on the mend. The surgeon sent me away for the afternoon. ‘Tis crowded, she said.”

“I’m glad you did what you could,” Marnie lead the other two across the yard.

“They might benefit from reinforcing parts of the hold. For a castle... ‘tis falling apart.”

A new voice interrupted them with a disdainful tone. “It’s new.”

The trio stopped and looked for who interjected. Solas was standing at the foot of the steps. He didn’t look particularly pleased as his gaze combed the group. Marnie was standing in front with Gale and Cole on either side like a loose triangulated position. They already moved too well together.

“The castle was abandoned when we arrived,” Solas clarified. “We’ve only been here a few months. Cole knows this.”

He looked at the boy, who shrugged rather bashfully.

“I was going to tell them,” he defended himself, already walking towards the mage. Solas wanted to see him; he could tell that now. But before he strayed too far from Marnie, he looked at her, as if asking permission. Solas glared at her.

“I was hoping to speak with Cole, if you’re done with him?” he asked.

“By all means,” Marnie shrugged, trying to show that there was nothing stopping Cole from doing as he wanted. She looked at Cole. “We’re going to the tavern. We’ll see each other later, alright?”

“Yes,” Cole nodded, elevated for only a moment at that promise.

Solas watched Marnie and Gale go. The Arisen didn’t seem very possessive of him, at least. But Cole had obviously taken too much of a liking to her. Solas locked eyes with Cole.

“Have you spent most of the day with them?” Solas kept his tone casual and tried to repress any negative thoughts about the ordeal.

“Yes,” Cole said it without a hint of shame. “With the Arisen. Walking. Being. Helping.”

“Were there no others around Skyhold that needed you?” Solas asked. A bit of humor entered his tone. “Or has the cook placed anti-spiritual measures in the kitchens?”

“I have to wait for the scullery maids to throw the peels out,” Cole muttered. “I’ll go then.”

“Alright,” Solas figured that was the best answer he would get for now.

Cole smiled absentmindedly. Solas beckoned to elsewhere in the yard, and Cole followed him to the clearing in front of the tavern. Varric was already there, standing by a stock of crates by the low stone wall.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted Cole.

Cole smiled at him, then climbed on top of one of the crates and stared at the tavern. Cole rarely ever acted as some people would deem normal, but today he was even more strange and aloof.

“You’re smiling a lot today,” Varric noted. “Did something happen?”

“He met the Arisen,” Solas said, rolling his eyes.

“Now, why did you say it like that, Chuckles?” Varric asked. “I’m sure she and the kid get along great.”

“We do,” Cole agreed.

Solas and Varric both looked at him. Cole stared through the window of the tavern, eyes locked on Marnie, who was inside sitting at a table. He was so still that it was eerie—he barely even blinked. Varric could tell what Solas was talking about then.

“You’re staring at her, kid,” Varric nudged Cole’s arm with his elbow.

“She is the sun, shining, shimmering, bright but never burning...” Cole said. “And we’re her world. What more could she want but our attentions?”

“Most people don’t find it that flattering.”

“Oh,” Cole blinked but kept looking at her. Varric sighed. He supposed it wasn’t entirely Cole’s fault. If Marnie compelled things from the Fade as an Arisen, his attraction was only natural. But if this is what they were in for....

Varric tried to distract the boy. “So, who did you help today?”

“The Arisen. I helped her find something, and then she wanted help moving something down the stairs. And then she needed help reading something in the library, but I didn’t do very well with that....”

“Have you been with Foxfire all day?”

Cole shrugged. He was focusing now. His staring gradually intensified. Marnie was bright, not unlike the Inquisitor. But if he focused, he was sure he’d be able to see her. If he just looked....

“Wet sand... hot....” Cole’s voice was quiet, as the thoughts were faint. Solas and Varric watched him, not wanting to interrupt his spell. Slowly, more little details reached Cole. “The sting of salt water in my mouth, my body paralyzed, reeling from the impact. How bad is it?”

Cole caught his breath, his voice clearer now. “It leers over me... the dragon. Just a red shape, really, writhing. Speaking in strange tongues. His eyes glow, almost like delight, and he reaches forward. There,” Cole puts his hand over his chest in a fist. “And then—”

The crunch of bone, the squelch of flesh, the rushing of blood out the wound and back again—

Cole cut himself off with a sharp cry of pain and lurched forward off of the crate. The fire in his chest was unbearable, his body overwhelmed with a pain that wasn’t his, that he wasn’t supposed to feel. He tried braving a final glance at the Arisen, but his head was too heavy.

“Cole!” Varric put his hands on Cole’s shoulders, trying to hold him in place during the spell. He glanced over the boy’s body—no visible damage, no injuries. Then why did he...?

“Cole,” Solas knelt on the boy’s other side. “Let it go.”

“Yes,” Cole exhaled, and the pain began to dissipate. “Yes, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry...”

“It’s alright now,” Solas’ voice remained steady. “You need to be careful. It will only get worse if you’re not.”

Cole’s breathing came easier now, and his strength slowly returned. Varric and Solas helped him sit up and kept a close eye on him as he recovered. Varric looked through the tavern window at the Arisen. Marnie was still talking with Gale, completely oblivious to the situation. At least she didn’t hurt him on purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A couple things: First, I want to be clear that Iron Bull is not super mad at Marnie; he’s just justifiably irritated and gave her the cold shoulder for a minute. The narration is unreliable on purpose; I wanted Marnie to feel more “othered” than she really was. I wanted to clear that up in case any Dragon Age fans thought it was OOC for him to hate her; I know, it’s okay.
> 
> Secondly, I’ve gotten some questions about lore and characters from Dragon’s Dogma, so I’ll answer them here:  
> -I probably won’t include any more DD characters; they have no reason to go to Thedas right now that I can think of, and I’m trying to focus on the already full cast. I do have writings with the other characters! I’m just keeping them on my tumblr blog for now as they’re “not canon” to the story.  
> -Regarding DD lore and locations: the DD Progress manga implies all countries from the game are on one continent called “Akadoria.” The wiki also mentions alleged references to “the mainland.” I decided to make Thedas that mainland an leave all DD countries as-is.  
> -As for the other stuff about the Maker and the Seneschel, well... you just gotta find out *oowoooh*.


	6. Expedition: Family Roadtrip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevelyan takes the group to the Exalted Plains and they talk. Like, a lot.

They couldn’t return to Crestwood like this.

After the incident in Crestwood, Trevelyan was adamant about morale and skill. Not only did he need to evaluate the performance of each of the inner circle members, but he also needed to make sure they’d work together as a team given their current and justified misgivings. Marnie was avoiding almost everyone, and a few of the others were hard-pressed to miss her. After some careful consideration, Trevelyan decided to take all of the inner circle members on an expedition to the Exalted plains. He just prayed they didn’t all kill each other before Corypheus made his next move.

The Exalted Plains was harsh in terms of its monsters, but the weather was mild and the terrain easy to navigate. Countless abandoned forts dotted the fields, reduced to no more than ruins now. The plains currently hosted a civil war of sorts between Gaspard de Chalons and Empress Celene, but the troops had temporarily retreated to their respective forts in response to the demons tearing through the Veil.

Leliana and Cullen had expressed concern over the troops’ silence since the Breach. Corporal Rosselin of Gaspard’s troops and Marshall Proulx had reported to Scout Harding that the eastern ramparts were overtaken by elite Freemen of the Dales and the western ramparts were completely overrun with undead. The ramparts contained pits full of bodies, and said pits were attracting spirits in unmanageable quantities. To make matters worse, the bodies were walking now and attacking anything that got too close. If the Inquisition managed to clear the ramparts and burn the bodies, the troops would be able to return to work. Trevelyan marked each of the ramparts on his map and scheduled a whole day to deal with the issue. If they were going to be fighting undead all over the plains, they needed a fresh start and a lot of daylight to cover ground. Besides, what was one or two days delay going to cost them?

Aside from that, the Inquisition had Rifts to seal, landmarks to claim, and a Dalish clan to speak to. This expedition would be a busy one. Trevelyan marked several locations on his map before setting off. They took four steeds with them, including Marnie and Gale’s red elk.

The entire group went along in a silence that was neither very tense nor very natural. No one knew what to say or who would flip a lid first, so most of them remained quiet for the time being out of respect, social fatigue, or a general hope that something hilarious or terrible would happen and ease the tension for them.

-

Marnie shivered as a breeze tugged under her cloak.

“Are you alright, Master?” Gale asked, watching her draw her cloak around her.

“Just a breeze,” she replied. “Does the cold not bother you, Gale?”

“No,” he blinked. “I.. suppose ‘twould be unfair. Like sleeping.”

“But you can feel the cold,” Marnie stated.

“Yes,” Gale nodded. His gaze wandered to one of the trees. “What a great tree.”

“It’s very old,” Cole told him. “Seasons come and go, countless, cold, calm or calamitous. Branches broke but still grew strong. There’s a bird’s nest there,” he pointed. “But you can’t see it.”

“I see,” Gale nodded.

“Can’t you hear it?” Cole looked confused.

“The birdsong?” Gale tilted his head and strained to hear.

“No,” Cole pressed. “The old song. Can’t you hear what the tree is saying to you?”

“No, not really,” Gale smiled placatingly. “But you’re a reputable guide.”

“Ugh, there’s two of them,” Sera groaned.

And just like that, the ice was broken. Solas spoke next.

“Come now, Sera,” he said. “Having another like Cole among us just gives us more insight into the Fade!”

She gave up. “Alright. I’m just gonna walk ten feet ahead of you.”

Sera took to the front of the loosely-gathered group, next to the Inquisitor. Solas smiled and looked at Gale. He hadn’t gotten a chance to interact with the pawn outside of a polite introduction at the beginning of their trip.

“You aren’t possessing a body, I take it?” Solas asked.

Gale peered at him then looked shyly at Marnie, as if he expected her to answer for him.

“What are you looking at me for?” she smiled at him in an almost cruel way, looking down at him from her place on the elk’s back. “Haven’t you a tongue?”

Gale looked in Solas’s direction and uttered a quiet, “No....”

“Ah. Forgive me,” Solas apologized. “I should’ve asked beforehand if I was allowed to ask questions.”

“No, ‘tis quite alright,” Marnie smiled and waved a hand dismissively. “People in Gransys don’t usually talk to pawns. Coming to Thedas was quite a change for us.”

“I see,” Solas nodded. “Well, if there is ever anything I could do to help you two adjust, feel free to ask me.”

“Alright,” Gale nodded, put a little more at ease since Marnie interacted so nicely with him. “Thank you.”

“Mm,” Vivienne frowned. “Marnie, my dear. I’m surprised the Inquisitor brought the both of you along. Given the circumstances.”

“Excuse me?” Marnie looked at her, confused.

“Considering your current condition, and that Gale’s a demon, I mean,” Vivienne clarified. “Although I suppose it’s not unlike our Inquisitor to keep such company.”

Cole scowled at the ground. Marnie raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t seem surprised.

“Gale shows no signs of being monstrous,” Solas argued.

Marnie was silent again, but she seemed less content to do so this time.

“He’s of the Fade,” Vivienne insisted. “That makes him unpredictable. He’s dangerous.”

“We’ve been over this regarding Cole as well,” Solas continued. “Although I suppose I shouldn’t question the opinions of an esteemed Circle mage.”

Vivienne, Solas, and Marnie fell into discontent silence. Varric looked at Cole and Gale. Not many people would take kindly to people talking harshly about them as if they weren’t even there. Gale gave him an aloof smile, and Cole tried to shrug and follow Gale’s example.

“I’m well used to that,” Gale assured him. “The master has completely given up trying to convince anyone otherwise. The people of Gransys hold similar opinions about pawns. Although in Gransys, the people are divided by pawns and people, not humans, elves, dwarves, qunari, and mages.”

“We’re our own set, are we?” Dorian asked.

“Aren’t you?” Gale asked.

-

The trees around them thickened into a forest. They dismounted and lead their horses and elk along.

“Let’s leave the horses here,” Gale suggested, his tone surprisingly commanding. “There’s a Rift up ahead.”

“How would you know that?” Blackwall asked, but they did as Gale suggested.

“He can hear it,” Cole said proudly.

A few hundred feet ahead, they found a grave site in a low clearing. In the center of the clearing, hovering meters above the ground, was a glowing, writhing Rift, and demons skulking around the graves to accompany it. The party drew their weapons and moved easily around the area, taking positions as quietly as possible before charging into the fray.

The archers and mages stood at various points at the edge of the trees, elevated and out of everyone’s way.

Gale worked to enchant the weapons of the rogues and the fighters, excluding Sera’s of course, intermixed with casting periodic healing spells either to heal his comrades or to move one of the demons. In truth, the first wave was easily dealt with; the Inquisition members greatly outnumbered the monsters. Even so, the next wave produced even stronger enemies.

A Rage demon fell from the Rift accompanied by lesser shades and specters. Iron Bull, Trevelyan, Cassandra, and Blackwall focused their efforts on said demon, whilst the others picked off the lesser monsters and supported anyone who needed it. Marnie flailed almost blindly, attacking one monster after the next, until her body was physically froze in place against her will. Marnie stared at her arm suspended in mid-air; ice crystallized around her arm, holding her in place. Past that, Marnie finally got a good look at the figure she’d been aiming at.

“Careful, my dear,” Vivienne’s voice was reserved, but unmistakably wary amidst her usual condescension.

Marnie’s heart raced. Had she almost hit Vivienne? She wanted to apologize, to tell her to get out of the way, anything, but she was vulnerable and worried how the others would react. Then, Gale and Cole were suddenly with them. Gale stood between them, shielding Marnie, glaring at Vivienne, whilst Cole held the Arisen’s shoulders to support her. Vivienne’s spell dissipated, releasing Marnie, and Vivienne moved away.

“Are you alright, Master?” Gale asked.

“Get out of here, Gale!” Marnie barked, grateful Cole was there to steady her until she found her footing again. She heard a few shouts from those fighting the Rage demon. Someone probably caught fire. “Go heal the others!”

Gale nodded and rested his staff on the ground, unleashing a network of suspended light all around the battlefield. Something akin to a healing spell that killed the flames and soothed those burned.

Once the Rage demon fell and the Rift in the grave site was sealed, they regrouped. Even the mildly injured gathered around Gale this time, while the others checked their weapons or collected resources. Trevelyan looked to Vivienne, who was wrapping a small gash on her arm with a cloth, well out of range of Gale’s healing spell.

“Do you want Gale to heal that?” he asked.

“It’s a scrape, darling. I assure you, I can handle it.”

Marnie looked at her. “The anodyne can only do so much. ‘Tis best to heal even mild injuries when you get them.”

“Yes, I’m sure mild injuries weren’t part of your plan.”

Marnie cringed, remembering how Vivienne had to intervene to protect herself.

“Arisen, if you’re so powerful but have no control,” Vivienne narrowed her eyes. “Then you have no place working in a group. It’s a simple fact.”

Marnie didn’t even attempt to defend herself. Now everyone was staring at them.

“What’s she talking about?” Dorian asked. “Did I miss something?”

“Yeah,” Sera muttered and pointed to Marnie with her thumb. “She nearly took Viv’s eye out during the fight.”

“What happened?” Trevelyan asked.

Marnie picked the dirt under her fingernails and mumbled, “Vivienne got in the way is all.”

“Ha!” Vivienne laughed. “In the best case scenario, you weren’t paying attention. Are you blind, my dear?”

Marnie’s heart began racing again.

“Don’t blow things out of proportion, Iron Lady,” Varric started. “I’m sure it was just an accident.”

“That’s even worse,” Vivienne replied.

“She didn’t try to hurt you,” Cole argued uncertainly. He’d never spoken against Vivienne, (because he knew better), but she was hurting the Arisen, whether she meant to or not.

“Arisen, please mind your pet demons,” Vivienne glared at Marnie. “Neither of them have any place in this. I doubt they even understand a world outside of you; they have no concept of what the Inquisitor and I are trying to accomplish.”

Solas interjected. “Neither Cole nor Gale would make a concentrated effort against the Inquisition; they were only helping the Arisen, something that you couldn’t do even though you were there with her.”

“She’s the most highly regarded adventurer in Gransys,” Vivienne said. She turned to Marnie. “You shouldn’t need taking care of. It’s time you lived up to higher standards than those of your homeland.”

“You wouldn’t last a day in Gransys,” Marnie said resolutely. “I promise you. You and Trevelyan tried to run from that cyclops in the Storm Coast. I can fight two of them at once by myself while my pawn watches from the sidelines. These monsters are a jest in comparison.”

“Then why do you struggle so much to do as your told?” Vivienne retorted. “It’s not your skill any of us are questioning. You’ve grown so accustomed to being alone that you can’t follow orders and you accidentally stab your own comrades. You shouldn’t have let yourself be a danger to myself and the Inquisition.”

“That’s enough!” Trevelyan’s shout interrupted the ringing in Marnie’s ears. “I’m tired of this! All of you.”

His gaze raked along the entire group this time.

“We lost someone in Crestwood. It doesn’t matter if he came back or not. If I can’t trust each of you to cooperate with one other, then you have no business with the Inquisition. So start fucking getting along, alright?”

Cassandra steeled under the scolding, Solas only stared at the Inquisitor. Varric looked at the others. Gale looked at the Arisen, whose gaze drifted from the ground to the Inquisitor. Dorian averted his gaze with an awkward sigh, and Blackwall looked noticeably uncomfortable. The others were in similar states, and Cole only stared ahead, overwhelmed by the moment and everyone’s various feelings. Shame, denial, resolution, boredom, angry, someone’s always angry....

“If any of you have anymore problems with each other,” Trevelyan continued, already moving ahead. “You’d best get it out of your systems before we return to Skyhold.”

-

The group was quiet for some time after the fight, but that didn’t stop Cole from trying to make reparations. Marnie and Gale vividly remembered each attempt Cole made to repair the damage made by the fallout. Each time resulted in Cole making everyone “forget” it ever happened, either because things went south or it risked exposing too much too soon from either party, but after a few solid attempts, spirits eased to the point that no one was actively mad at anyone else anymore. Cole guessed he could leave it at that, and he did. To everyone else, they all unanimously and almost magically decided to act like the incident hadn’t happened for the most part. People started talking to each other again.

Blackwall and Varric started talking about some sport Gale had never heard of. Dorian and Cassandra talked a little about Cassandra’s homeland and her upbringing as a Seeker. Vivienne tried giving Solas some constructive criticism, but after a few abrasive responses, the two mages were content to be silent.

“M.. Marnie?” Cole said the word timidly. “May I also call you Arisen?”

“Most people do; I don’t see why not.”

“What about Master?”

Dorian cleared his throat. Even Marnie’s polite facade seemed to wither.

“Er... we’re not under contract,” she dodged the question. “And I prefer it that way. Arisen will do.”

“Okay,” Cole didn’t understand how he made her and the others uncomfortable, but he didn’t press. Another thought distracted him, and he spoke it out loud without thinking. “Vishanti kaffas, do you want people to think you’re a slave? Dorian, what’s a slave?”

Dorian only uttered a Tevine swear in response.

“But you said I could ask questions.”

“Why don’t you ask the Inquisitor? At a later time, perhaps.”

“Alright...?”

-

They continued moving and continued talking when they weren’t fighting. Trevelyan wasn’t sure what had come over them and eased tensions to such a degree, but he was grateful to dismiss the earlier squabbles as no more than a hiccup.

Cassandra was probably the hardest to rekindle camaraderie with, but Gale took an inspiration from Cole’s work and made a noticeable effort at putting himself out to find some common ground with her. Cassandra didn’t think to speak to him or the Arisen. Marnie respected that, gave her space, and hoped Cassandra would be in better spirits eventually. She feared any attempt she made to justify herself would only prolong the Seeker’s ire. Gale, however, had no such reservations.

“Cassandra, what do your people mean when they say Herald of Andraste?”

“You haven’t figured this out?” she mumbled, but sighed. “Many people believe the Inquisitor was sent by Andraste to execute her divine will. You could say he’s an agent of Andraste.”

“And... who is Andraste?” Gale pressed calmly. “I understand they are a religious figurehead, but... I’m not sure how. Is Andraste the Maker?”

“I... can’t tell whether you’re being serious or mocking me,” Cassandra replied harshly. “I thought you were researching this for yourself.”

“I am researching it,” Gale replied. “By asking you. I never meant to offend you. I apologize.”

“No, it’s alright....” Cassandra sighed. “Andraste is the Maker’s bride.”

“For truth?” Gale looked excited and turned eagerly to Marnie. For confirmation?

“What are you looking at me for?” Marnie whispered furiously.

Cassandra laughed. “I take it religion doesn’t come naturally to pawns?”

“Not really,” Gale admitted. “No, I hope I didn’t offend you saying it like that.”

“It’s quite alright, Gale,” Cassandra assured him. “Thank you.”

Content with that for now, Gale moved on to the next person on his mental checklist of people he had questions for.

“Varric,” Gale started. “Why do you call my master Foxfire?”

“It’s a nickname?” Varric replied. “It just means we’re friends.”

“And, why?” Gale sounded impatient. “What does it mean?”

“Oh, well the boss told me about that glowing thing she can do with the scar on her chest,” Varric said. “It’s like foxfire. Besides, she really pulled the wool over our eyes with the Arisen thing, and the pawn thing....”

Marnie narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh,” Gale said.

“And I was thinking for you....”

Gale’s face lit up with disbelief. “I get a nickname?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t you?”

“Pawns usually aren’t worthy of such honors.”

“What?” Varric brushed off the idea. “Nonsense. I’ll call you Firefly. It’s complimentary, plus you seem to like the fire.”

“Alright,” Gale nodded. “Thank you.”

Marnie’s glare turned to an approving smile in an instant. Varric caught that, even though Marnie turned away immediately after.

“So, Marnie,” Iron Bull addressed her. “Back in the Storm Coast, did you see how that giant sized you up when you charged it like that?”

“Um... no,” Marnie replied cautiously. “Not truly. I was focusing on not getting stepped on.”

“Ah, you should’ve seen him, all disoriented and cowering. You really got the drop on him. I never would’ve guessed you had it in you.”

Marnie chuckled. “You don’t sound mad.”

“For what? You don’t know me well enough if you think I’m gonna pass up on a fight like that.”

“I meant about the Arisen thing, actually,” Marnie admitted.

Iron Bull wouldn’t even entertain the thought. “Come on. We’re good.”

“Good,” Marnie smiled.

“I was wondering about the fire, though.”

“Oh, you saw that?” Marnie’s smile turned a bit awkward. “Gale didn’t have time to enchant my weapons at once.”

“So how’d you do it?”

“Magic, of sorts,” Marnie admitted. Her voice raised slightly “Since we’re spending the day airing out our personal complaints with each other, I’m sure several of you would be interested in that.”

A few of them were very intrigued now.

“I’m going to leave it at that, then,” Iron Bull said. “You can do whatever magic crap you want; just don’t set anyone on fire.”

“By ‘a sort of magic,’” Solas started. “You mean...?”

“I never had an inclination to magic before the Dragon,” Marnie explained. “I suppose... ‘tis something to do with the Dragon’s magic keeping me alive. All Arisen can wield magic, same as pawns.”

“It’s not so unusual for magic to develop later in life,” Solas said diplomatically.

“Not unheard of,” Vivienne corrected, but otherwise she didn’t seem very interested in participating in the conversation.

“You use your daggers as conduits?” Dorian guessed. “Instead of using a staff.”

“Yes,” Marnie nodded.

“Have you tried other spells? Have you tried... holding your energy for a moment for a bigger sting?”

“I don’t have the patience for it,” she said emphatically. “You have the benefit of casting from a distance. Perhaps if I used a bow....”

“Not a good idea,” Solas interjected. “One needs a stable conduit to work with. The recoil and string of the bow may carry your energy, but they’ll only break if you’re lucky. More likely than not, you’ll end up seriously injured by your spells.”

Marnie gave him an irritated look, but managed to force a smile.

“Have anything else to add?” she asked quietly.

Cole leaned over to Solas and whispered, “Don’t answer that.”

-

They sealed another Rift, this time with only a few lesser demons in the way, and took time after the battle to collect the remains of said demons for research and other uses.

“I’m seven, by the way,” Gale said suddenly out of nowhere.

“Where did that come from?” Blackwall asked, too bewildered to unpack what he’d said.

“The master told me to be more open with all of you. And given none of you have seen pawns before, there’s a lot to say.”

“And... what was that you just said?”

“My age,” Gale said. “I’m seven years old.”

“Oh,” Blackwall wasn’t sure how to react to that. He guessed he could react the same way he would if anyone else had told him they were seven years old. “That’s impressive.”

Dorian interjected. “You mean your Arisen summoned you from the Fade just like that seven years ago? You were never a child, is what I mean.”

“Yes,” Gale nodded.

“Well, that explains a few things,” Iron Bull muttered.

“I’ve only died four times,” Gale added.

“... That’s even more impressive,” Blackwall said.

Gale preened. Or pretended to preen; whichever was more likely.

“It is though,” Marnie interjected. “Most pawns die several times within their first year. Expiring only four times is a true feat.” She turned to Gale. “Drew has died hundreds of times, right?” Marnie sounded incredulous even as she said it.

Gale nodded again. “Yes, but she and her Arisen are fighting real monsters. Cyclopses ten times the size of ours, roosts full of dragons. They’re in the west, I think. ‘Tis dark there.”

“Have you met Drew’s Arisen yet?” Marnie asked.

“Yes, but she hasn’t taken me to travel. She says she doesn’t want to scare me.”

Marnie smiled. “I’m glad she has empathy for your kind, in spite of everything.”

“Well, you two have officially lost me,” Blackwall grumbled.

“Are these other pawns you’re talking about?” Solas asked. “And other Arisen?” He thought there was only one.

Gale smiled at him. “Yes. We’ve yet to find any on the mainland, but in Gransys, pawns outnumber the people.”

“How?” Solas asked. “Where do they come from?”

“The... the Rift, ser?” Gale said, as if he was surprised Solas would ask such an obvious question. “The Fade.”

“Each Arisen is given a pawn,” Marnie elaborated. “Over time, over countless generations of Arisen, we’ve accrued a lot of them. There’s a guild for them in the capital city where we conduct most of our business with them.”

“And are they all the same?” Blackwall asked.

“I’m not sure how you mean,” Marnie admitted. “They’re all soulless, ageless, and strange, but their appearances, their occupations, their skills, even how they behave are all defined by their masters. They become almost as unique as the Arisen what made them.”

“How could Gale have served other Arisen?” Solas asked. “And how have you accrued so many pawns in such a short span of time?”

“Oh, not many are from this world,” Gale replied. “Duke Dragonsbane slew only the second great dragon, and there have been unsuccessful Arisen before and after him. My Arisen is possibly the third recorded Arisen after him. But the Fade links our world to countless others. Pawns come from there, too.”

Trevelyan turned to face him so quickly in shock that his foot slid in the dirt and fell face-first to the ground. Cassandra rushed forward to help him, flustered more from Gale’s revelation than the fall of the Herald of Andraste. Most of the others opted to watch Gale very carefully and be as still as possible. Only Solas spoke.

“Pawns cannot only enter the Fade, but use it to travel?” Solas asked. To other worlds? He’d studied possibilities of such a thing, but there’d never been such reliable proof of such a thing before. Now he had an eyewitness account, from someone who utilized the Fade like that to such a degree that it was pedestrian to him! One day into his inquiries and one pawn had managed to shift his expectations so drastically.

“Yes,” Gale nodded. “I serve other Arisen in other worlds from time to time. The Master has a list of her favorite pawns to rent, and we’re mutual acquaintances with most of their Arisen.”

“H-how?” Solas whispered hoarsely. He couldn’t feel his fucking legs. His mouth tasted like copper. This was one of the greatest moments of his life, one of the greatest things he’d learned.

“Oh, they send letters,” Gale replied. “’Tis polite to send a letter and a gift to a pawn’s master, if you’re pleased with their performance. Although Drew’s Arisen will send her over with things for us for no real reason—”

“Alright, that’s enough, Gale!” Marnie interjected. He hadn’t spoken wrongly this time, but he was clearly oblivious to how staggered the other people around them were by his careless exposition. “I think the others have enough to consider for now.”

“Oh,” Gale relented. “Alright, then.”

The silence didn’t last very long before Solas recovered.

“Gale, I’m curious,” Solas pressed. “While you’re in the Fade, do you—”

“Stop,” Cassandra interrupted Solas. “Be quiet, Solas.”

“I was only—”

“No.”

Solas gave a withering groan.

“Let’s all play the quiet game until we get to camp,” Cassandra suggested.

“Is that an order, Seeker?” Varric sighed.

“What’s the quiet game?” Cole asked.

“It’s where everyone tries to be as quiet as possible,” Cassandra explained. “The first person to speak loses.”

“And has to buy everyone drinks,” Varric interjected, possibly for his own gain but also as a back-up motivator for those less inclined to entertain the game to begin with. He knew Sera wasn’t willing to spend any money she had on buying drinks for everybody.

“Oh,” Cole said. “I haven’t any money.”

“Well, then, you’d better not say anything,” Cassandra said. “For the rest of the trip.”

-

True to Cassandra’s wishes, no one said anything as they traveled the last stretch of field to a suitable camping spot. The spot was on the edge of a cluster of trees and within sight and walking distance of a river. Beyond that, nothing but open fields until the rocky outcroppings and ruins. Visibility was great, resources were accessible. It was a perfect base camp for their expedition.

“Seems a suitable place to make camp,” Blackwall commented. He pulled up a half-fallen post of wooden fencing half-buried under the grass. Probably the decrepit remains of some road-side fencing left neglected. “We can fashion this fencing into a makeshift hitching rail for the horses.”

“Sounds like a fair plan,” Trevelyan decided. “We’ll rest here for the remainder of the trip.”

Those who were on steeds dismounted and let the horses wander in the field. Trevelyan and Cassandra sat on a fallen log by the pathway and conferred over the map while the others cleaned up the area and picked up any more of the fencing they could find. Blackwall showed Sera how to lash the fence posts together and the two of them worked on the proposed fortified hitching rails. Solas watched over the animals and kept an eye out for any particular dangers. Varric, Marnie, and Iron Bull worked on removing any particularly obtrusive sticks and rocks from the clearing and pitching tents and other fixtures around camp. Vivienne composed a fire pit and cooking spit and then collected water from the river. Gale, Dorian, and Cole collected firewood from the displaced sticks and also from the little forest nearby. Gale only got distracted once when he started collecting flowers in the area, and Cole got distracted twice, once when Blackwall got a splinter and then also by the flowers.

By the time that all was finished, the sun was low in the sky. They probably didn’t have much daylight left. Solas gathered the horses and tied them to the hitching rails, then the group gathered around the Inquisitor for their next orders.

“I’m taking Cassandra, Solas, and Cole with me to find that Dalish camp,” Trevelyan said. “The rest of you can stay here and finish setting up camp. Tomorrow, we’ll split into groups and start tackling a few of these jobs.”

With that, Trevelyan took the small group out to search the area, and the rest of them dispersed for the night.

-

After the events of the day, most of them relished in the limited solitude they were allotted. Tents were pitched, meals were cooked in turns. Marnie took over her own needs for the night, letting Gale explore the campsite and establish some form of affinity to the area. He tended to get lost when the Arisen tried sending him back to a place by himself.

Dorian finished his meticulous evening skin care routine and headed back to camp. He took his time, not in a hurry in case there were still “personal grievances to air out” while Trevelyan was out of earshot. When he arrived to camp, Gale was leaning forward on one of the hitching rail they’d set up.

Dorian waved, and Gale gave a polite, hollow smile. Gale didn’t seem too bad. He wasn’t poking around in anyone’s head, and he was quiet after his statements about the Fade. Now he seemed almost hell bent to keep his mouth shut until someone spoke to him.

“Do you mind?” Dorian asked, leaning back against the hitching rail with him. He looked up at the sky. The stars were just visible in the faint ice-blue of the retreating dusk. “Can I ask you a question, Gale? Or did your Master order you to stay silent forever?”

Gale opened his mouth, then closed it and whispered fervently, “But we’ll lose the quiet game.”

Dorian laughed more loudly than necessary and yelled into camp.

“Do you hear that Cassandra? I think I just lost the quiet game! The game’s over!”

Cassandra gave a disgusted groan in response.

Dorian grinned to Gale. “See? All safe now.”

“You can ask me,” Gale replied, a little surprised at Dorian’s behavior.

“You mentioned your Arisen pulled you from the Fade just as you are,” Dorian began. “Did she choose your appearance, or did you come like that on your own?”

“I appeared as my Master willed me to,” Gale replied.

Dorian kind of chuckled, still taken aback by Gale’s brazen use of the term ‘master’ in the South. He’d be lucky if it didn’t get them into trouble later.

“What?” Gale asked.

Dorian took a breath and shook his head dismissively. He referred to Gale’s human form again. “And is it subject to change?”

“Yes,” Gale nodded. “My hair was lighter when she first pulled me from the Rift. ‘Twas ginger. And... different, otherwise, though I can’t say exactly how....”

“’Twas thinner.”

Dorian and Gale looked over their shoulders. Marnie was timidly lingering a few feet away from them, looking sheepishly at Dorian. He didn’t seem to have a fault against her joining them. She stepped forward to where the elk was tethered and offered it what looked like a palm full of blue flowers, of which the elk eagerly devoured.

"'Tis the only change I remember, at least," Marnie admitted. "But we've known pawns whose appearances change like the weather."

"Avery's hair has changed thrice since we met him," Gale added.

Marnie laughed. "Avery has transformed in more notable ways than that."

“Any particular reason for the change?” Dorian asked, regarding Gale’s appearance once more.

“Another pawn we were traveling with had a similar hairstyle, and I got them confused,” Marnie admitted. “Naively, I had Gale’s hair professionally dyed at a salon in the capital city, but it never changed back.”

“Lucky him,” Dorian said. “I’d kill for looks like that that don’t require constant maintenance.”

“Couldn’t you just not look like that then?” Gale suggested. Marnie elbowed his arm.

Dorian laughed. “My boy, if it were that simple, I’m sure we’d all let ourselves go.”

Gale and Marnie returned to the campfire. Marnie sat by the fire and ate an evening meal while Gale sat on the ground a few feet away from her watching the flames. Cole eventually joined them, sitting close enough to Marnie that she had to make a conscious effort not to bump him with her elbow as she ate. Cole didn’t even seem to notice; he was instead fixated on watching Marnie picking the bones out of the dried fish in her lap. Gale glanced at the Arisen. She’d been quiet tonight. Perhaps she was tired.

“Do try to sleep tonight, Master,” he said. “We’ve still the ramparts to clear. You need to be at your best.”

“What makes you think I won’t sleep?” Marnie looked at him passively.

“You never sleep when we’re in the field,” Gale stated. “Even though I will keep you safe.”

Marnie smirked and leaned forward, chin in her hand, elbow on her knee. “You’re no better. I doubt you’d sleep even if I commanded it.”

Now Gale looked away. “Er... probably.”

Marnie chuckled, folded a cloth around what was left of the fish, and got to her feet.

“I’m going to wash up at the creek. Stay here.”

Gale gave an indignant look and stood as well.

“I’ll be fine, Gale,” Marnie insisted, lighting a lantern with a twig at the fire. “Stay here. I’ll call for you if I need anything.”

Gale reluctantly nodded and took her seat next to Cole.

“You insist on watching her take a piss, too?” Sera snickered.

“No?” Gale gave her a blank, vaguely annoyed look. He stared at the fire, listening to the sounds around camp. Rustling grass, creaking bugs. A few small animals and birds. He could smell some sort of deer, just faintly. Herds of halla or harts probably grazed in this area at night. Hopefully they were skittish as the deer in Gransys.

“She’ll be safe,” Cole said. “There’s no bad things here.”

Gale’s lip twitched upward for a moment, then he resumed watching the fire.

“True,” he muttered. “No wildlife, no demons, no ledges to fall from. In the immediate area, at least.”

Cassandra tensed. She stood up and walked past Gale and out to the river. She passed Marnie while Marnie was on her way back to camp. Marnie didn’t expect Cassandra to look at her, not with how things have been going lately, but she could tell Cassandra was irritated at something specific tonight.

When Marnie reached the campfire, she glanced at Gale inquisitively. Cole whispered something in Gale’s ear, just before the pawn’s attention was taken by the Arisen.

“Go on,” Marnie nodded him to the river, and he left at once.

Gale sat at the edge of the water six feet or so from Cassandra. She didn’t acknowledge his presence at all as he dipped a cloth in the water and began running it over his face and hair. He remembered what Cole said. You should talk to her again.

“Ser Cassandra,” Gale started politely. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would you say that?” Cassandra put on a bored tone because that was the most composed she could be for a moment. “About the dangers in this area?”

“I was only making an observation,” Gale replied, matter of fact but still sensitive. Then he thought he realized what was going on. “Oh. You must have lost someone in the field to such dangers. I’m sorry for bringing up bad memories.”

“We lost you, you ass,” Cassandra hissed. “We thought you were dead.”

Gale’s expression morphed to one of shock. “You worried for me!”

“That’s not exactly the word for it,” Cassandra said. “Mourned is more appropriate.”

“Mourned,” Gale repeated breathlessly. “Why?”

“Because people don’t often come back from the dead. And since your master neglected to tell any of us that you were expendable, we all felt horrible.”

“Even you?” Gale questioned. “You weren’t even in Crestwood.”

“Especially those of us that weren’t in Crestwood!” Cassandra snapped. “When one of the scouts came a day early with word of what happened, we were.... We thought... if we had been there, what we could have done to prevent it.”

Gale didn’t know what to say for a moment.

“Forgive me.”

Cassandra looked at him, her eyes deceptively sharp. Forgive. Gale used that word not unlike how Cole used forget.

Gale continued. “You were all so worried for my sake. I’m ashamed for causing such trouble.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Cassandra dismissed. “You do not have to apologize for giving your life to save the Inquisitor.” She looked at him. “Especially in your case.”

Gale was confused by that, but he felt content if she felt better.

Cassandra got to her feet and offered her hand. “Are you returning to camp?”

Gale relaxed and took her hand. He didn’t quite understand the entirety of human emotions and customs, but... this was a start. He felt like after all his years, he still had more to learn. Only now, on the mainland, there were those aside from the Arisen who were willing to help him learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! It got to be about 9k without fundamental things included (like, I only had the dialogue, but I hadn't written where they were or what they were doing while dialoguing), so I just divided the chapter. I'm also aware that this chapter is basically just party banter, but I think the pandemic and lockdown has me writing more interpersonal-relationship-centric fic as some kind of coping mechanism. The characters are also SUPER touchy-feely in the first drafts for exactly that reason? I cut it all out in my first edit, but it's kinda funny how often I find myself subconsciously writing directions like "and then the Iron Bull hugged Gale and said "it's gonna be okay kid, we'll get through this together"" Lol.


	7. Expedition: Family Roadtrip Part II

The next day of the expedition was easier, in some respects. Gale and Cole had stayed up all night watching the camp, but they were always accompanied by someone else just because a few members of the party insisted to not leave the fate of the camp in the hands of two “demons.” In the morning, Solas rose early. He helped Gale prepare breakfast but found that the pawn could take care of it himself. Of course, Gale had been taking care of his Arisen for years; he probably didn’t have the same limitations as Cole in the realms of what he understood about fulfilling a human’s basic needs. Solas meditated by the river while the others got ready for the day.

Cole and Gale knelt by a pile of small boulders by the edge of the trees.

“And the mice made a home there,” Cole pointed under the rocks. “And they had babies, and their babies came back and had more babies.”

“And... we know that because it’s a suitable shelter?” Gale guessed.

“No,” Cole looked a little annoyed by this point. He’d been trying to teach Gale how to listen for the last half hour now. He wasn’t frustrated that Gale didn’t get it yet; he was frustrated that Gale seemingly didn’t get it at all. If they were so alike, Gale should know how to do this, right?

Cole moved on to a tree. “Listen to this one.”

The tree was large with sturdy, winding limbs varying in length and height. One could possibly climb the tree with ease, and there were several points within the tree that were broad enough to sit or lie in.

“’Tis a very large tree,” Gale said. “Perhaps one—or a few people—would sit in it to get out of the grass.”

“Yes,” Cole nodded. He was so close to understanding it. “Two people. What else?”

“Else?” Gale asked.

Cole sighed. Was this how Varric felt when he tried teaching Cole how to play cards or tell jokes? Gale gave him a soft expression to appease him.

“I don’t think we hear the same things.”

Cole looked a little troubled, but the Inquisitor called them over to the rest of the group. They needed to head out soon.

Once everyone was ready to go, Trevelyan handed out their first orders. Today, they’d be splitting into two groups—one group would gather resources for the Dalish camp and the other would reinstate barriers around the Dalish gravesites and finish establishing landmarks and sealing Rifts in the area. If all went according to plan, they’d tackle the ramparts tomorrow. Trevelyan took Vivienne, Iron Bull, Blackwall, Sera, and Cole to finish scouting the area. He ordered Cassandra to take Marnie, Gale, Varric, Solas, and Dorian to gather the requested resources for the Dalish clan. With those plans established, both groups set out to their respective jobs.

The resource gathering group took to the forest first. An elf at the Dalish camp requested herbs, pelts, and iron ore, which would take the full day to gather in ample amounts. For the first half hour of their wandering, the group maintained a constant but not particularly uncomfortable silence.

“Stop that,” Marnie ordered, looking at Gale as the mage started rotating his shoulder. Gale froze, mid-rotation, and blinked at her. “What is that?”

“I saw the Iron Bull doing it,” Gale replied awkwardly.

“You don’t need to do that,” Marnie said.

Gale frowned, but held his arms at his sides and kept walking.

“I saw you and Cole talking this morning,” Marnie continued.

“Did you want me to stay with you?” Gale asked.

“No, no. I would’ve called for you. You know that.”

“Right.”

“Were you talking about anything interesting?”

“He was trying to show me how he manages to hear things that no one else is able to hear,” Gale replied. “I can’t do it, but... I think I understand it. Master, would if please you if I adapted my behavior to act more like the other members of the Inquisition?”

“What?” Marnie felt embarrassed at him asking that in front of everyone else, but she wasn’t sure why.

“You’ve admitted to being happier since joining the group,” Gale explained. “Perhaps if I acted more like any of out allies, it would please you?”

“No, don’t do that,” Marnie groaned. “Just because being around people makes me happier doesn’t mean you should indiscriminately copy everything they do. You’re fine as you are, Gale.”

“What did he mean by that?” Dorian asked Marnie. The Arisen didn’t quite know how to respond, so Dorian clarified. “Pawns like to copy other people?”

“It helps other people feel at ease around them,” Marnie explained flamboyantly. “In theory. To be honest, ‘tis all well and good until I’m stuck schooling unsavory behavior out of every support pawn I hire.”

“It’s a good thing Gale can’t read minds, then,” Dorian said.

“I’d have my work cut out for me if Gale could hear the thoughts of everyone in our group. Yours included.”

“I’ll do my best to misbehave out loud,” Dorian grinned. “Just to make it easy for you.”

“Thanks,” Marnie groaned.

Solas looked at Gale, amazed that the pawn didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest that the others were speaking right in front of him as if he wasn’t even there.

“Are you not a spirit, Gale?” Solas asked.

“No?” Gale’s response sounded like a question. “I’m not sure what you’re asking....”

“You bear numerous similarities to Cole, who is a spirit,” Solas clarified. “I was curious how and when those similarities end.”

“Ah,” Gale nodded. “No. My kind... we’re unlike spirits given human form. ‘Tis always something behind a spirit—an emotion or an element of will. A human element. Then they are compelled to manifest to act on that will. Pawns are created the opposite way. There’s nothing to us at all. Our Arisens conjure our bodies for us, we learn skills beside them, and outside of the Arisen and whatever insight we may glean on our meager own travels, we lack all human elements of will.”

“I see. Thank you for answering me, Gale.”

“Anytime,” Gale nodded.

The conversation gave Dorian an idea. If there was nothing to the pawns outside of their masters that command them, then what did that mean for their social status in Gransys?

“Gale,” he began. “Forgive me if this is too forward, but I get the feeling pawns are... very much like slaves. Are they, or...?”

Gale chuckled. Then when no one laughed, he chuckled again more loudly. His expression sobered.

“Oh, you were serious,” he sounded bewildered. “I... don’t know what to say.”

“You could say no,” Marnie interjected. “’Tis a suitable option.”

“Arisen, I don’t think putting words in the pawn’s mouth is a good look for you, given the circumstances.”

“Oh, honestly!” Marnie snapped. Then she restrained herself into an almost catatonic calm so her defensiveness couldn’t be interpreted as an admission of guilt. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s alright, Arisen,” Solas interjected. “I doubt the people of Tevinter could distinguish slaves from common people. From what I’ve seen, they have a tendency to enslave anything that differs from them.”

“That’s enough,” Cassandra called over her shoulder. “The hunters said there is a wolf den nearby. Solas, Varric, and Marnie should go ahead of us. See if you can find anything. You may as well hunt what you can while we’re in smaller groups. I’ll stay here to protect the other two, and we’ll finish collecting resources in this area.”

“Alright,” Marnie nodded. Gale looked a little worried at their parting, but she simply gave him a reassuring look until he relaxed.

Varric, Solas, and Marnie followed their general path to a thinner part of the forest and kept an eye out for deer, wolves, and anything the Inquisition could eat while they were there. The other three diverted from the path to pull up patches of herbs and collect iron from an ore vein in the wall of a low cliff.

Gale didn’t look like he could even lift a pickaxe, let alone use one, but he instantly went to the ore vein to collect what he could. Cassandra watched him carefully for a moment, making sure he was getting the job done, before taking out her own pickaxe. That left Dorian to collect the herbs, which were entangled with patches of weeds. Dorian could almost resist complaining until his hands became pale and pained with some kind of allergic reaction that caused excruciating, itchy blisters to bubble on his skin.

Dorian grunted, stuffed the rest of the herbs in their collection bag, and stood up with his arms awkwardly extended in front of him so he wouldn’t aggravate his skin further.

“Gale, would you be a dear and take care of this for me?” Dorian asked. He tried scratching one of the blisters, but cussed under his breath as the pain worsened.

Gale glanced between the rock and Dorian before slipping the pickaxe back in his bag and turning to the other mage.

“Come here,” Gale said, holding his staff in one hand and holding his other out in offering.

Dorian thrust his hands into Gale’s grasp impatiently. He wasn’t wary of Gale or his magic in the least, as long as it wasn’t ever used against him, that is. Gale took his hands gently, summoning a spell of dark blue instead of the usual spring green. Gale’s deft fingers trailed along Dorian’s palms and fingers. The spell drew out the toxins and restored Dorian’s skin from ashen to amber again. After the blisters healed, Gale gently turned one of Dorian’s hands over to look at his fingernails.

“What’s that?” Gale asked, staring at Dorian’s black nails. He thought the discoloration was part of the reaction, but the spell didn’t seem to have any effect.

“Ah, the polish?” Dorian guessed. “I’m surprised it’s held up as well as it has. Those Antivans know what they’re doing.”

Gale quickly released him, gripping his staff with both hands.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“Let’s regroup with the others,” Cassandra suggested.

-

As the two archers in the group, Marnie and Varric had the task of hunting wolves for the pelts needed by the clan. Since Marnie apparently couldn’t shoot to save her life, Varric did most of the hunting and Marnie carried the game bag. They found a warren of rabbits for tonight’s meal, but failed to locate a wolf pack by the time the others reached them.

When they regrouped, the six of them took a quick break so they’d all be refreshed for a potential fight with an entire wolf pack. Cassandra checked their map, Varric fiddled with his crossbow, Marnie and Dorian fiddled with their nails, and Solas simply watched Gale as the pawn strayed from the group. Exploration was integral to the pawns, even at his age.

After growing bored of picking the dirt out from under her nails, Marnie’s attention wandered, as it so often did, to Gale. By now, he was several feet away and crouched on the ground next to a grazing rabbit. The rabbit didn’t mind Gale even as the pawn got close enough to touch it. Marnie anxiously yet silently waved her hand to get Varric’s attention.

Varric looked up, and Marnie motioned for him to stay quiet and nodded to Gale. Cassandra and Dorian also saw the interaction and followed Marnie’s gesture. Gale was still following the rabbit. When the rabbit chewed on a piece of grass, Gale moved his jaw in time with the motion. When the rabbit sat up and tugged a paw over one of its ears, Gale mimicked the gesture.

“What is he doing now?” Cassandra asked.

“He’s mimicking it,” Marnie murmured, not tearing her eyes away from Gale. “’Tis how pawns learn. I’ve yet to see him copy an animal, though. I’m surprised....”

The rabbit twitched and loped away. Gale startled the others by darting after it and snatching it up by its neck so quickly that the rabbit started crying.

“Stop it!” Marnie shot to her feet and stalked over to Gale, all amusement evaporating and being replaced with a harsh seriousness. “Drop it, now.”

Gale opened his hand and let the rabbit drop. It recovered and scurried off immediately, so Marnie figured it was just startled, not injured. Still, she didn’t know what had possessed Gale to do that. Gale stared at the ground, his hand shaking.

“Poor thing,” Marnie mumbled after the rabbit, then she glared at Gale. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Gale admitted.

“Don’t do that. You can’t terrorize animals like that; it distresses them.”

She explained it calmly enough, but the interaction spooked the both of them.

“Yes, Master.”

Had he so brazenly attacked anything but a rabbit, the others might’ve been more disturbed. At least Vivienne wasn’t there to see it. Gale tried to move on from the moment as quickly as possible.

“We’re looking for a wolf pack?” he asked. Then he pointed to an area some ways to his left. “Their tracks lead there.”

The others seemed eager enough to follow his example. They found a pack of wolves in the field circling around a halla carcass. Fresh kill, by the looks of it. There were nine wolves in total—they only needed five. Two wolves were napping beside the carcass while the other seven wandered in the area or kept watch. The group ducked into the brush to stay out of sight while they discussed their plan.

“Let’s see if we can get the sleeping ones before they wake up,” Varric suggested to Marnie. Gale was already silently working to enchant her bow.

“Don’t,” Marnie whispered to Gale, pushing his staff down to break his focus. “We need the pelts intact.”

Gale shrugged and looked out at the wolves. Marnie and Varric took aim at the two sleeping wolves. Varric struck one of the wolves in the skull, killing it instantly, but Marnie’s arrow struck the ground half a foot from the other wolf.

“Damn it!” Marnie swore, springing to her feet and nocking three arrows at once and launching them into the fray of now alert and disoriented wolves. Two of the arrows gouged into a wolf’s back, making the wolf writhe and roll on the ground uncontrollably.

The rest of the wolves were on the run. Marnie darted out of the brush, waving for the others to follow her.

“Let’s go!” she barked.

Her impulsive nature wasn’t ideal, but she’d proven herself to be quick of thought and foot alike, so the others followed her lead. They all fled out into the open, and Solas and Dorian casted a few spells far ahead to drive the wolves back around to them.

After gathering their bearings, the remaining wolves circled back and scattered. They were no strangers to chasing off humans, and since they had fresh kill to protect, they had all the reason they needed to fight. These wolves were unlike their cousins in Gransys. In Gransys, wolves would rampage indiscriminately, regardless of their opponent. Here and now, the wolves moved in an order, though said order was unpredictable. They scattered, circuited through the group, snapped and bit where they could, and tried not to get hit. They weren’t running, but they were hard to hit in their slippery state. With this method, a pack of wolves could easily drive away or overtake a group of human opponents.

Marnie stood at Solas’s back, each of them looking in opposite directions as the wolves swarmed. Marnie was able to hold them off for the most part whilst Solas focused on intoning traps throughout the field.

“They’re organized for youngsters, aren’t they, Solas?” Marnie asked.

“Watch out,” Solas cautioned, pulling her back by the arm as a wolf lunged at her. The beast couldn’t recover to strike again before several rocks pelted the side of its head and body.

The wolf wheeled around to face its attacker. Gale, having no one to heal and no offensive spells that would leave the pelts undamaged, now resorted to new tactics. The wolf snarled and lunged for him. Gale offered his arm and let the wolf tackle him to the ground.

“I have it!” Gale shouted. “Attack now!”

“Gale!” Cassandra shouted, flailing her shield to ward off another wolf before sprinting towards the fallen mage. She drove her sword through the wolf’s rib cage and kicked it off of him, helping Gale to his feet. By then, the Arisen was also beside them, and practically beside herself with worry.

“Are you hurt?” Marnie demanded. Gale’s arm was a bloody mess.

“I’m fine, Arisen,” Gale dismissed, raising his staff to conjure a quick healing spell for the wound.

Marnie spun on her heel and lashed out at another wolf. Together, she and Cassandra managed to corner a wolf between them and kill it. At that point, with five wolves dead, and the opposing party now outnumbering them, the animals decided to fall back again. This time, they weren’t pursued, and they didn’t dare circle back. Marnie watched them disappear over a hill before letting out a breath. Then she spun and glared at Gale. He was standing within a healing spell with the others.

“What was that?” Marnie demanded.

Recognizing her tone and her posture, the other four suddenly found the wolf carcasses to be very fascinating, and they busied themselves appraising their kill. They kept their eyes averted and their ears open for the imminent scolding.

Gale replied, “I was helping.”

“Helping,” Marnie breathed. Had he picked up that word from Cole? “No, you were trying to get yourself killed. You may be expendable, but you’re still needed. Whatever are we supposed to do without a healer?”

“Oh.” Gale’s shoulders sank. “I’m deeply sorry, Master. It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” she said, but she said it so gently that it was obviously an act of love. “Is your arm alright?”

Gale winced, more at the wide tear in his sleeve than any physical pain. “My sleeve is torn...”

“It can be mended,” Marnie dismissed, looping her arm with his. She gave him a meaningful, reassuring look. “’Tis alright. I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

Gale’s expression relaxed into one of vague content, an almost-smile. Marnie released him and joined the others, picking one of the wolf carcasses up over her shoulder.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get these back to camp.”

-

The two groups arrived back at camp at about the same time. The Inquisitor and Cassandra headed out again to deliver the herbs, ore, and animals to the Dalish camp. Most of the others remained at camp and rested at the end of a long day. Solas attempted to rekindle the fire to cook dinner, and Blackwall and Marnie hung the dead rabbits in the trees to skin them for dinner. Gale watched them for a short time until the scene made him physically ill to the point where he had to return to camp and lie down for the evening.

“You alright, kid?” Iron Bull asked, looking at Gale where he lied down on his side by Solas’s feet. The pawn was remarkably pale.

“I’m fine,” Gale sighed.

Cole’s voice was quiet but clear. “Skin parting from flesh, flesh pale and bloody. He’s so quiet—why is it always him?”

“Cole,” Gale’s voice was hard. What little energy he could muster was unrestrained. “Stop.”

Cole fell silent, looking a little sick himself now. Iron Bull looked back at the fire. Vivienne’s voice drew his attention.

“Iron Bull, stop picking at that scab or it won’t heal properly,” Vivienne admonished.

Iron Bull had been scratching absentmindedly—but not unintentionally—at the remains of a large gash on his right lower arm throughout the evening. His habit was beginning to annoy her, clearly.

“I know, but the scar will look amazing!” Iron Bull enthused, gesturing to the wound with bright eyes.

Vivienne looked even less amused. Iron Bull sighed in defeat.

“I’ll go put a bandage on it.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Iron Bull stood up but glanced at Gale. Usually the pawn was all over any injuries anyone had, so Iron Bull was unnerved and a little concerned when Gale now only retreated into one of the tents for more peaceful rest.

-

By the time Trevelyan and his companions returned to camp, supper was already made and the group congregated around the fire for the meal. A few of them mingled, exchanging information and stories, and just spending time with each other like human companions often did. Marnie seemed particularly fixated on Cole, who didn’t eat but sat close to her and picked at food on her plate anyway. He seemed to be breaking the bits of food into bite-sized pieces, but she couldn’t discern why.

“How were the Rifts?” she asked him.

“We found an ancient bathhouse,” Cole replied. “And Sera showed us where her friends leave things. You fought wolves.”

“We did,” Marnie nodded. “They’re different here than in Gransys.”

Solas politely interjected. “The wildlife in Gransys has probably been driven mad by the Dragon. Here on the mainland, the wolves remain in their natural state, unless disturbed by demons or Rifts.”

“Do you know a lot about wolves?” Cole asked.

Marnie gave Solas a patient yet almost aggressively eager look. He considered whether or not he’d answer at all. When he finally spoke, he stared calmly back at her.

“I know that they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts,” he replied coldly.

Marnie burst out laughing. “Aren’t we all, Solas?”

Solas clearly wouldn’t entertain her. “Of course. I’m sure Arisen and pawns especially relate to that sentiment.”

The rustle of canvas behind Marnie interrupted their half-assed squabble. Marnie looked over her shoulder. Gale, presentable but a bit disheveled from sleeping, stepped closer to her and sat on her other side.

“Feeling better?” Marnie asked.

“Yes,” Cole answered for him. “We all are.”

Gale gave him an amused smirk. “Watching over my Arisen in my absence, brother?” Then he caught himself with a start. “Er—Cole.”

Marnie chuckled. Cole didn’t look offended in the slightest. Quite the contrary; his face lit up with excitement at the new nickname.

“Calling Cole your brother now?” Marnie asked.

“’Twas an accident,” Gale replied.

Marnie gave him a patient, genuine smile. “’Tis alright, Gale. You may address him as you please; it has nothing to do with me.”

“Besides,” Solas added. “With the similarities between you and Cole, one could call you two brothers. Or cousins, more accurately.”

He didn’t need to look at Marnie to see the approval on her face. Cole beamed at Gale.

“Brother,” he decided. Brother. Belonging. Better than being by himself.

-

They all slept soundly that night, but the idea of sleeping in shifts was surreptitiously put to rest when Varric turned in for the night and simply didn’t tell anyone else to watch the camp. He trusted Gale and Cole to keep an eye on things. The two stayed up all night again, and once when Blackwall looked out of his tent to make sure everything was still in order, he saw the boys playing some kind of game where they entangle strings on their fingers. Neither of them said a word, but the way Cole and Gale looked at each other left the impression that they were definitely communicating in some otherworldly way that humans couldn’t accomplish. Or understand. Blackwall just went back to bed and hoped the camp would still be there in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short-ish one. I'll try to get this expedition finished in the next chapter, but man is it a task from hell so far. Would it have been truer to canon if I'd written this expedition in the Hinterlands instead?


	8. Expedition: Family Roadtrip Part III

The Inquisition’s expedition to the Exalted Plains had been a success thus far. Over the last few days, they’d sealed Rifts, established camps, curried favor with the local Dalish settlement, and sent word of their progress back to Skyhold. Today would be the final day of the expedition, if all went according to plan. Their final task was to clear the eastern and western ramparts of undead and Freemen that had taken over the locations. Inquisitor Trevelyan suggested splitting into two groups once more. He’d take Vivienne, the Iron Bull, Marnie, Varric, and Solas to the eastern ramparts. Cassandra in turn would take Sera, Blackwall, Dorian, Cole, and Gale to the western ramparts.

Before setting out, they all double-checked their maps, gear, and the world’s state around them.

“It might rain,” the Inquisitor mumbled, looking up at the overcast sky.

“Not a chance,” Blackwall denied.

“How do you know?”

Blackwall raised his left hand. “I broke this wrist when I was twelve. It’s been acting up ever since when the weather’s bad.”

“Huh,” Trevelyan said. “At least it’s not going to rain. Bull, don’t get any ideas.”

“Come on, Boss,” Iron Bull wasn’t moved in the slightest. “You really think I’d break something just so I could have a flawless weather detector in my bones?”

“Darling, we all know you would,” Vivienne teased.

“How do you know I haven’t already?”

Marnie was irritable this morning, probably because Gale was going in a separate group. She tried to keep herself in check, even as she fussed over Gale and the elk.

“Stay with the others,” Marnie ordered. “Don’t let anything happen to them. Now, you shouldn’t be near any high heights, so if you need to take a hit for someone, just do it. And keep Cole safe. You’re brothers now. Act like it.”

“Yes, Master,” Gale nodded.

Marnie felt someone tugging at her belt and looked down. Cole had lit her lantern and was fastening it to her belt for her. She gave him an inquisitive look.

“It wanted to be lit,” Cole said, standing up again. Then he looked at her, as if waiting to be lectured like Gale. Marnie gave him a smile and rested her hands on both his shoulders. He bent his knees so she wouldn’t have to look up to look him in the eyes.

“You too,” she said. “Be safe. Don’t be careless. Watch out for each other.”

“Yes, Arisen,” Cole nodded.

-

Neither of the ramparts were within spitting distance, but travel was easy today since all Rifts were sealed and all potential threats carefully documented on their maps. The western ramparts were a bit farther removed from their camp, so Cassandra’s group went by horseback. Cole and Gale took the elk, and Gale was quite impressed with how well the animal listened to Cole. The group made good time, but that time was given to near-constant chattering. Dorian was among the most eager to speak.

“Gale,” he began. “Now that your Arisen is out of earshot....”

“Are you going to ask me about being a slave again?” Gale sighed in exasperation. Blackwall looked sharply at the two of them.

“I was only hoping to get your opinion on the matter,” Dorian said. “Without your Arisen’s input.”

Gale spoke clearly and carefully to make sure he was fully understood. “My Arisen utilizes us—as in, the pawns—to our full potential, but calling us slaves is reductive. We’re much more than that. We’re favored by the Arisen, privileged to do as we please when not employed by the Arisen....”

“But why must you call her ‘master’?” Dorian pressed. “I get that she may be a wrung above you in a manner of speaking, but why can’t you just call her ‘Arisen’ like everybody else?”

Gale didn’t say anything. He’d lost interest in the conversation, clearly.

“The Arisen likes it better when he calls her master,” Cole said. “Back home, people only call her Arisen. Devout but detached. Like she’s just a thing. It’s nice to belong to someone, even if that someone can’t call you by name.”

“Oh,” Dorian cringed. “I see....”

-

The walk to the eastern ramparts was similarly peaceful. The fields were empty, save for only a couple halla that ran for cover as soon as they saw the Inquisition. The path narrowed as it led the group from the fields into winding, rocky ravines. The Inquisitor kept a close eye on his map as they navigated the winding path to the ramparts.

“Dear, put out that lantern if you’re not going to use it,” Vivienne said.

“Well, now I don’t want to,” Marnie replied. However, now that the sun was out, the lantern didn’t make the area around her any brighter. She took her time extinguishing the lantern all the same.

“It worries me that you so readily humor demons even when they aren’t in our immediate presence. Do come to me when one of them possesses you. I will graciously assist you on the first occasion, at least.”

Marnie just rolled her eyes.

“Vivienne has a point,” Trevelyan said. “You don’t need to waste resources for Cole’s sake.”

“’Tis not a waste, Inquisitor,” Marnie assured him. “’Tis just a little fuel.”

“Still, you know what I mean,” the Inquisitor pressed. “I like Cole well enough, the same as you, but I don’t let him walk all over me. That kind of behavior could be dangerous even if he was a perfectly normal human man.”

“You obviously haven’t kept the company of pawns,” Marnie replied. “They all act the same way. Cole’s not harming anything by using me as a tool to learn. I know how to handle him. I know how to set boundaries. I know what I’m doing.”

“Let us all hope so,” Vivienne concluded coldly. Needless to say, she was skeptical of Marnie’s entire game.

-

Cassandra’s group reached the western ramparts in good time. The western ramparts lied within a maze of rock formations at the edge of the fields, giving the group a chance to dismount and tether their steeds before cautiously passing through the front gates. The ramparts were in shambles, but the wide, wooden walkways and elevated parapets were still intact. Only a few walls and gateways were a bit worn, though as a result of neglect or a fight, no one could decide.

The walkway curved to the right and opened to a wide, circular platform where a few undead idly stood. The monsters shuffled towards the intruders, each of them uttering pained moans and growls. Dorian cast a barrier spell, and the group dispersed around the area. The undead were so few in number and so weak in their state—even to Gale’s healing magic—that the battle was nothing more than a warm-up.

“That was easy,” Blackwall said diplomatically. “We should be done with this in no time.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” Gale advised. “There’s something bigger here waiting for us.”

“Right,” Sera said. “And any idea what that bigger ‘something’ is?”

“No,” Gale shook his head.

“Creepy,” she muttered.

“Let’s keep going,” Cassandra ordered.

They found a pit of bodies guarded by another small, disorganized flock of undead. After the monsters were dealt with, Dorian stood at the precipice of the pit and summoned a swath of gentle flame to incinerate the remains. Gale and Cole still showed signs of unrest, so the party kept investigating.

-

Meanwhile, the Inquisitor’s group was finding the eastern ramparts much more difficult to contend with. Not only did they have undead to fight, but the ramparts had also been tamed and overtaken by a group of Freemen of the Dales. Well-armored and well-versed in combat, the Freemen proved themselves a greater challenge, but one that the Inquisition prepared to face all the same. After taking care of the first wave of Freemen guarding the entrance to the ramparts, the group quietly advanced. They took advantage of the high walls to progress without everyone in the area realizing they were there.

The ramparts were almost labyrinthine. Not only were there several pathways that could be taken, but there were also several levels to the ramparts, some of which didn’t seem to connect to the other levels in any easily accessible way. They all tried to keep their footing and stay together. Marnie stayed close to the others and kept one hand on the right wall to keep her on the right path. Unbeknownst to her, a few of the boards in the wall were loose, and when she reached said loose boards, they broke through and she slid and tumbled down the steep wall into one of the lower pathways. Marnie quickly got back to her feet and shook herself. She looked around, trying to reorient herself after her fall.

The new lower level was bordered on both sides by high, slanted walls. It wasn’t unlike a wide gutter. She could see a couple bridges that passed over the gutter, but nothing within reach that could help her back up to the higher level with the others. She looked up at the spot where she’d fallen through and cursed herself. What was she supposed to do now?

“You alright, Foxfire?” Varric called down.

“I’m fine,” Marnie replied, her embarrassment for now subdued by her heightened awareness that she was alone. “Pull me up.”

The Iron Bull knelt by the edge of the platform and extended his hand. Marnie tried jumping and scrambling up the wall to meet him, but the walls of the gutter pathway were too tall and too steep for her to reach him. They didn’t have time to formulate another plan before the sounds of undead approaching both parties alerted them all. Marnie looked sidelong down the path. A hoard of undead shambled down the path right towards her.

“More undead,” Vivienne warned, drawing her staff and conjuring a barrier spell over everyone.

“Damn it,” Trevelyan cursed, looking between the undead and Marnie.

“Keep going, Inquisitor,” Marnie called up before he had a chance to order the others to leave her behind. She could handle a few undead on her own. “This has to lead out somewhere. I’ll catch up with you farther inside.”

“Are you sure?” Trevelyan called down, seeing no other alternative.

Marnie faced the hoard of monsters, carefully drawing her daggers. She only glanced away when she heard someone slide down the wall to join her. Solas. The mage stood beside her, staff at the ready.

“It’s best if none of us are left alone,” Solas offered.

Marnie felt a piece of heart-wrenching relief.

“We’ll be fine, Inquisitor!” Solas called up after the others. “We’ll regroup soon!”

The others were already engaged in a full-on bloodbath with the undead and possibly more Freemen attacking them. Solas and Marnie focused on their own problem for a moment. The undead were monotonously identical, slow-moving yet fierce, and they well outnumbered the two they were up against. Marnie appraised them.

“Solas, do you know any healing spells?” she asked.

“Nothing like Gale can wield,” Solas warned her. She looked at him.

“Then keep me safe,” she ordered.

Solas nodded.

Marnie charged into the fray, slashing at limbs, summoning momentary bursts of flame, tackling individual figures to embed her blades in their throats. Solas kept an eye on her first and foremost. She kept the undead distracted and a good distance from him, so keeping her alive was the priority. If any undead that she hadn’t yet seen got too close, he’d send an offensive spell their way. With that minor support, Marnie didn’t really need a healer. She was quick on her feet and agile enough that none of the monsters could get a good enough hold on her to do lasting damage.

Marnie yanked both her daggers out of an undead’s back, panting. She swept the area, finding only bodies and Solas standing a few feet away.

“The others have already moved on,” Solas said, walking past her. “The undead came from this direction. There might be a pathway to the others if we retrace their steps.”

“Sounds good,” Marnie pressed her hand against her side. A mild bruise, nothing serious. “And... my thanks.”

Solas raised his eyebrows as she caught up to him. “As I said, none of us would do well alone here. Besides,” a hint of humor entered his tone. “I’m sure Gale might exhibit some of that ‘demonic ferocity’ Vivienne is so worried about, if anything happened to you.”

Marnie chuckled mirthlessly. “Don’t remind me.”

-

Cassandra’s group soon found what Gale had been so troubled by. An arcane horror hovered before another pit of bodies. The creature was draped in tattered robes, as tall as four grown people stacked on top of each other, and hovered just above the ground. The horror was also guarded or accompanied by several undead that alerted the arcane horror to the Inquisition’s presence at once.

The group dispersed again, and this time, they couldn’t afford to slack off. Cassandra, Blackwall, and Cole went for the arcane horror, whilst Sera, Dorian, and Gale stayed back and picked off the undead from a distance. Dorian launched a barrier spell towards the three fighting the arcane horror and placed a draining spell on the horror before focusing his attacks on the undead.

The arcane horror swept out an arm, throwing Cassandra, Cole, and Blackwall back. Gale moved forward to help Cole to his feet.

“We’re fine, Gale, get back!” Cassandra ordered.

The four of them looked back at the arcane horror. An eerie glow now surrounded it, and as it extended its arms, the light intensified and reached out to each of the undead left on the platform and even some in the pit.

“’Tis casting a spell!” Gale realized, charging for it. “Attack it now!”

The other three were already on the same page. Blackwall and Cassandra timed their strongest attacks to strike at the same time. The blow crippled the horror’s focus for only a moment, and the spell faltered. The horror shuffled backwards, out of their grasp, faster than they expected. The horror began to float higher in the air, out of reach of their mortal weapons. Sera and Dorian focused their efforts to the arcane horror now, but their attacks did petty damage. If they wanted to bring it down again, they needed a stronger attack.

Gale remembered something from his vast knowledge about fighting monsters. True, this was a demon from the Fade, but it was still technically an undead, right? Gale drew his staff and intoned a healing spell. The spell latched onto the demon’s chest, within its rib cage. Perfect. If that didn’t cripple it, nothing would.

The spell took a moment to cast, but Cassandra, Blackwall, and Cole had devoted their attention to fending off any of the undead that came within ten feet of the pawn. At least he could reach the damn thing, whatever he was doing. Gale thrust his arms out, and the spell blossomed into bright tendrils of spring green light. The arcane horror shrieked and arched backwards unnaturally, the shock paralyzing it and knocking it unceremoniously to the ground.

“Now!” Gale shouted.

The others were already ahead of him. Blackwall and Cassandra drove their swords through the horror’s shoulder and stomach respectively, driving the blades deep enough that they pierced the wooden floor beneath the horror. They kept it pinned in place as Cole threw himself onto the horror’s chest and hacked mercilessly at its chest and the gaps in its helmet. Once the skull was broken, the arcane horror lost all animation, tensing for a final time as most of its remains dissolved into airborne ash that returned to the Fade. Cole quickly withdrew, wanting nothing to do with it any longer.

What walking corpses remained now froze and withered, their bones creaking as they collapsed. Sera nudged one with her foot experimentally to make sure they were all dead, then exhaled with relief.

“Nice one,” Sera said to Gale. “But next time, how ‘bout trying that before the big creepy creep puts our fighters on their asses?”

“Alright,” Gale smiled, glad for the praise buried within the complaint.

-

Marnie and Solas had to fight their way past a few more walking dead before they reached the ground level again. The sounds of grunts and clanging metal drew them to the center of the ramparts, where the others were already fighting a group of Freemen on a large platform partially shaded by a large tree. Based on their armor alone, the enemies looked high in station. Solas and Marnie wasted no time. Solas covered Marnie in a barrier spell before sending her off, and Marnie joined the fight right alongside the others.

“Glad you could make it!” Iron Bull swung his greatsword, pushing a Freeman back to make room for Marnie. “These should be the last of them.”

One of the men called out, “The Dales belong to Corypheus!”

“Excuse me?” Marnie turned.

She diverged then, sprinting for one of the Freemen and striking him while his back was turned. She darted back and forth in quick succession, driving him off balance. As soon as he stumbled enough to reveal a gap in his armor, Marnie struck there, then wrapped her arm around his neck to slice his throat.

The sound of sharp footsteps behind her made her spin, but she couldn’t see anyone there. She shook her head and took a cautious step back, straining her eyes, trying to focus on what was around her. Someone was close to her, she could hear it, she could feel it, but she couldn’t—

Two strong arms wrapped around her torso from behind right before two blades pierced her chest.

-

“Let me get this straight,” Dorian addressed Gale and Cole. “Neither of you need to eat or sleep, but Gale can only hear his Arisen’s thoughts and Cole hears thoughts indiscriminately?”

“It has to be a hurt,” Cole reminded him.

“Yes, and you can move anywhere you want,” Dorian turned to Gale. “Can pawns do that as well, Gale?”

“You ask a lot of questions for thinking I’m a slave,” Gale mused.

Dorian gave a dwindling sigh. “Fine. I formally apologize for asking if you were a slave. I see that you aren’t and that I was wrong. There, happy?”

“And to my Arisen?” Gale prodded.

“She wasn’t even here for the conversation!” Dorian protested.

“How do you know I didn’t tell her telepathically while we were walking around?”

Another sigh. “Yes, of course. I’ll apologize to your Arisen as soon as we return to camp, I give you my word.”

Gale brightened up. “Thank you, Dorian.”

“Uh-huh...” Dorian tried not to be disconcerted by the overdone expression. “Anyway, about my question—”

Gale’s shoes audibly made contact with a rock as the pawn suddenly shuffled to a stop. Dorian slowed as well. Gale was pale and wide-eyed. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, or like he might feint.

“Is something wrong?” Dorian asked. “Gale?”

Before he even got an answer, Gale fixated on a point on the horizon and disappeared.

“Brother, wait!” Cole called after him. Before Cole could disappear just as Gale had, Cassandra grabbed his arm.

“Cole, stay,” she ordered, trying to ground him. “We don’t know where he’s going or what’s happening.”

“She’s hurt,” Cole’s voice quivered. “The Arisen is hurt, we need her.”

Cassandra pulled him over to the horses, then called to the others, who were already mounting their own horses.

“We need to get to the others,” Cassandra said. “We don’t have much time.”

She prayed everyone was safe.

-

Marnie didn’t know how she mustered the energy, but she did. She pulled the daggers out of her chest, spun around, and stabbed the Freeman in the neck. After that, the pain and fatigue hit her in a crippling wave. If she’d had a heart, she’d surely be dead right about now. She felt strong hands help her stand and pull her aside. Away from the fight. Her vision blurred and flashed, and she struggled to hear anything for a moment.

“You alright?” the Iron Bull’s voice finally reached her.

“I yet live,” Marnie replied, her voice rather weak. She pressed her hands against the wounds, but her body felt unsteady and uncoordinated. She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d last if she didn’t get a curative of some kind soon. “The... the Maker can’t kill me....”

“Shit, that’s a lot of blood.”

Marnie felt his presence before she heard him. Gale. What was he doing here? What about the others?

“Master!” Gale shouted, running to her side and conjuring a healing spell at once. “Stay with me! Hold on....”

Iron Bull stared at Gale in shock, probably having the same thoughts and concerns as Marnie. The Arisen pushed his arm.

“Go,” she whispered. “He’ll tend to me.”

Iron Bull left Gale to it and joined the fight once more with a newfound vigor. Once Marnie’s wounds healed, she tried getting to her feet and staggered. Gale held her up by the arm.

“Careful,” he cautioned. “You’ve lost a lot of blood....”

Her head cleared, the adrenaline returned. Marnie drew her daggers and sprinted in a circle around the fight to approach the Freeman captain from behind. Gale’s eyes were only on her as she copied the fatal move that had nearly cost her her own life. The captain was startled and disoriented after the blow, if he wasn’t dead already, and that give Trevelyan the opportunity to deliver the killing strike. Marnie wrenched her daggers out of the man’s chest and let his body fall.

“Good work,” Trevelyan took her in. Marnie waved and moved to sit under the tree and recover. Gale hovered beside her. The Inquisitor regarded him. “Where are the others?”

“I don’t know,” Gale replied calmly. “They should be on their way here.”

“Were they safe?” Trevelyan’s concern hardened into anger. “Were the ramparts cleared before you came here, at least?”

“Yes,” Gale nodded. “We’d just finished when the Arisen called me.”

“Called you?” Trevelyan look at Marnie. She gave a confused shrug. Trevelyan turned back to Gale. “And what would you have done if you weren’t finished with the ramparts? What if they were in the middle of battle the same as us? Would you have just left them there without a healer?”

“My primary obligation is to the Arisen,” Gale replied. “And she needed me.”

“We had things under control, Gale,” Trevelyan insisted. “Your Arisen ordered you to stay with Cassandra. You’re lucky that your disobedience didn’t cost us anything this time, but you need to see a bigger picture outside of Marnie. You could’ve gotten someone killed. We could have lost half of our people.”

The less Gale reacted, the more Trevelyan’s anger turned into dread. Gale didn’t so much as flinch as he was scolded. He looked Trevelyan in the eye and had such a vacant expression that he almost looked amused by the Inquisitor’s rather emotional display. What was wrong with him?

“Do you... understand what I’m saying to you?!” Trevelyan demanded. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions at all?”

“Trevelyan,” Marnie snapped. “Enough.”

She stood up between the Inquisitor and the pawn.

“Don’t ever talk to my pawn like that again,” she said calmly but firmly. “I know it’s hard for all of you to understand,” her gaze swept the group, “but my pawn bears no obligation to the Inquisition. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t even be here. I take full responsibility for his actions and I deeply apologize on his behalf. But you cannot treat him as you would treat another human who would move on if I died. Because if anything happens to me, it would rob Gale of any humanity he has. Whatever happens, you cannot blame him for clinging to me, because I’m all he has.”

Trevelyan processed her words carefully. He hadn’t considered Gale to be anything different than Cole. Cole has lost people, so why would it be any different for Gale? Then he remembered how Marnie explained pawns, how they were soulless and characterized by their Arisen. If Marnie died, would Gale reduce to an empty husk of a person? Trevelyan braved a glance over her shoulder at Gale, who was watching his Arisen’s back nonchalantly.

“He’s not like Cole,” Marnie’s face softened to a pleading expression. “Pray, just accept that.”

No one got the chance to speak again before the sound of horse hooves and shouting echoed over the ramparts. When Cassandra, Dorian, Cole, Sera, and Blackwall reached the center of the ramparts, weapons drawn, they were relieved to find everyone in one piece.

“Thank the Maker,” Cassandra sighed, sheathing her sword. “Is everyone alright?”

“Relatively speaking,” Marnie replied, not looking away from Trevelyan.

“Good,” Trevelyan replied with an equal amount of venom. “Then let’s head back to camp. And just go home.”

The rest of the group trailed after him. Marnie made her point quite clear, and no one had the energy nor the argument to stand with or against her on this. Cole fussed over Marnie until they reached the horses. Possibly, he’d “heard” the whole conversation, or at least the important parts about the Arisen’s proposed hypothetical death, which only distressed him further after Marnie’s brush with death this afternoon. Marnie relentlessly assured him as if comforting overprotective people was a part-time job of hers. As soon as the Arisen mounted her elk, Cole quieted down and walked right beside them.

-

When they reached camp, Marnie untacked the elk, washed the blood off her clothes, and turned in for the night. Even though her wounds had healed, she was still exhausted from the blood loss and this expedition as a whole. The light of the sunset was just beginning to fade when Trevelyan found Gale sitting by the fire, cleaning and sharpening Marnie’s daggers. Trevelyan sat across from the pawn.

“You clean her weapons for her as well?” he asked.

“She’s exhausted,” Gale whispered. “I let her rest.”

“You let her?”

Gale let his hands drop into his lap.

“I feel like you don’t understand us,” Gale started, all amicability drained from his voice. “And you don’t want to understand.”

“That’s not it. Some of us are simply concerned.”

“Why? Because I can’t feel happiness? Or sadness? You think that’s indicative of some kind of mistreatment? I can feel pain, or fatigue. But neither remorse nor judgment occurs to me.”

Trevelyan was silent. What must it feel like, not being able to feel at all?

“Was it wrong to come to my Arisen’s aid, in your eyes?” Gale mumbled, looking down at the dagger.

“It’s not that you came to help her, it’s that you left the others behind,” Trevelyan explained calmly, in a simpler way. “Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Gale nodded.

“What would you have done,” Trevelyan asked. “If they weren’t safe? What if you felt like Marnie was in trouble, but Cassandra and Dorian and Cole were overwhelmed, and they needed your help as well? Who would you have prioritized?”

“T-the Arisen,” Gale was compelled to say it, even though he knew it wasn’t what the Inquisitor wanted to hear. “I cannot even apologize for it, Inquisitor. She is my Arisen. I’m the main pawn. She’s my responsibility.”

The conflicting duality of his statement and those of his Arisen earlier that day might’ve been amusing. Gale reached for a whetstone and began drawing it against the edge of the blade.

“What do you mean by that? Your responsibility?”

“I am to ensure her safety and the fulfilling of her needs, more so than any other pawn,” Gale explained. “A support pawn may break a contract, may wander on their own. A main pawn must stay with their Arisen in their world. The main pawn is... to do more than the others, and is regarded more highly in kind.”

Trevelyan understood that, but it had little to do with their conversation. He got to his feet with a sigh.

“So you’re not here for us, you’re here for her. I suppose you did tell me as much.”

“Yes,” Gale nodded.

“Did you want to come here, at least?”

Gale looked at him again. “I’m a pawn, ser. I don’t want anything.”

The whetstone audibly sheared against the jagged blade. No one spoke about it for the rest of the night. They were all fatigued by this debate.

-

When everyone else turned in for the night, Cole and Gale kept the campfire ablaze in almost complete silence.

“Gale, can I ask you questions about being a pawn?” Cole asked quietly.

“Of course,” Gale didn’t smile, as if he didn’t bother putting up a front around Cole anymore. “I’d answer any questions you have.”

“Where do we come from?”

“From the Fade,” Gale replied. “Or, in Gransys, we call it the Rift. There are gateways through the Veil, and only an Arisen can call us forth from it.”

“What if we die?”

“We return to the Rift,” Gale replied. He figured Cole was just asking questions as he saw them in Gale’s head. Acting as a hypothetical pawn. “And we can be called forth again later.”

“What is our purpose?”

“To serve the Arisen,” Gale replied. “We are to carry her burdens, carry out her orders, act as her advisers, her caretakers, her companions. Whatever the Arisen has need of, ‘tis up to us to provide it or ensure it is provided. The Arisen bears a monumental burden, and none but the pawns can truly help them. Through this, ‘tis said pawns may gain new life of their own.”

“It makes us real,” Cole reiterated.

Those words resonated in Cole. It made so much sense. That was why he was brought forth, and why he was compelled to do the things he did. That’s why he was different from all other spirits they’d encountered. “Helping” as he did it was just as Gale described. He advised people, took care of them, did little things out of sight and mind of the people. Being invisible but ever present in service. And doing such things made him real.

This was his purpose. This was him.

-

“Arisen? Arisen...”

Marnie woke up to Cole shaking her foot. She stirred and sat up, annoyed at being woken up in the middle of the night.

“What?” she demanded.

“Gale says we have to leave.”

Alerted by his statement, Marnie forced herself out of bed. She quickly dressed and ducked out of the tent. Gale stood tensely on the edge of camp, staring into the darkness beyond. Marnie went to his side, tugging her clothes straight.

“What is it?” she asked.

“There,” Gale pointed. “There’s a dragon there. She’s been getting closer to camp for some time now. I think we should move farther into the trees.”

He was tense, his voice brittle with something like fear. Marnie stared into the field, straining to see whatever he was referring to. She couldn’t see anything beyond the brief span of light given off by the campfire, the writhing shadows of the Arisen and her main pawn. The shadows multiplied as the others each woke and joined them at the edge of camp.

“Oh. There it is,” Dorian mused, seeing the large, dark form hunkered down in the grass. The glint of its eyes and the occasional shift of its wings or body were the only signs it wasn’t a rock. That, and the fact that it hadn’t been out there before.

“It’s not moving,” Sera said quietly, flinching when a bug bumped against her arm. This whole encounter had her on edge. “Shite. Did it fall asleep there?”

“No,” Solas shook his head. “It’s stalking us.”

“What would a dragon need to stalk for?” Iron Bull asked. “Something like her could level our camp if she wanted to.”

“This isn’t right,” Vivienne agreed.

“Cole,” Trevelyan turned to the spirit. “I know this might be hard, but... can you get a read on her at all?”

“She’s being very quiet,” Cole replied. “But I’ll try.”

The group fell quiet enough that the whisper of the wind through the grass almost sounded like screaming. They could even hear what was probably the dragon’s breathing—a slow but steady, intermittent rumble that they felt as a vibration in the ground more than they acually heard it.

“Hungry,” Cole whispered. “Gnawing, hollow pain in the belly. No food where she used to hunt....”

“She must think we’re her new prey,” Blackwall said.

“Or competition,” Vivienne corrected. “She won’t take kindly to us staying here.”

“Then why hasn’t she eradicated us yet?” Iron Bull sounded almost... indignant, like he wanted the dragon to attack them.

“She might be wary of us,” Solas suggested. “If we’re able to deplete a whole hunting ground in just a few days, perhaps we’re more formidable than we seem.”

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra said. “What should we do?”

Trevelyan did not want to try fighting a dragon in the dark when they were all half-asleep. He guessed they could try to quietly pack up and move farther into the forest like Gale suggested, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to grapple with their supplies and be on the move with something so close.

Before Treveylan came to a decision, the dragon spread its wings and launched itself into the sky. The others watched it go, careful and a little bit in awe of the great creature. The black dragon disappeared over the horizon. The only sound it made was the flapping of its wings. Marnie exhaled for what felt like the first time since the encounter began.

“She’s gone,” Cole said. “She’s too scared, too hungry. She’ll be looking elsewhere for food. Tonight.”

Trevelyan look up to the sky. It was pitch dark, maybe a couple hours yet before dawn.

“Alright,” he decided. “I think we’re safe tonight. But we should definitely move out first thing in the morning. Gale.”

The pawn tore his eyes away from the point the dragon disappeared.

“Good work,” Trevelyan nodded in approval. “Let us know if she comes back.”

“Right,” Gale nodded.

They were overstaying their welcome in the plains. None of them slept very well the rest of the night.


	9. Tamed

The dragon didn’t return for the rest of the night and well into the morning, so Cole and Gale let the others wake up in the afternoon on their own terms. Everyone seemed to be in a fair mood today, almost as if they’d all forgotten the fight yesterday and the encounter with the dragon. After a light breakfast, they all packed their things and findings to start the trip back to Skyhold. Some Inquisition scouts would be maintaining this campsite from now on, so the Inquisitor left the fire pit, the hitching rail, and a few other implements in place. Most everything else, though, went.

Gale followed Marnie like a duckling all day long. She jokingly asked if he’d missed her yesterday, but he didn’t answer. Gale followed Marnie as she tacked the elk, and as she collapsed the tent, and as she packed their supplies, and as she and Cassandra cleaned their mess kits at the river. Gale didn’t stare at her then, at least. He recalled Cassandra might be disturbed by it.

“The Inquisitor plans to travel to Crestwood after we stop in Skyhold for supplies,” Cassandra told her.

“He’s going out again so soon?” Marnie asked.

“Relax,” Cassandra gave her an easy smile. “He hasn’t requested you go. But Corypheus doesn’t patiently wait on some mountain top like your Dragon. We need to make progress towards defeating him. Besides, the sooner we do that, the sooner you and Gale can return to your homeland. I can tell you’re rightfully homesick.”

“Well, forgive me if I enjoy myself in Thedas anyway,” Marnie grinned. They both collected their things and stood. Marnie looked over her shoulder. “Gale, come along.”

If he’d been listening in on their conversation, he gave no indication. Gale was lying down on his stomach on a large rock protruding over the river, enthralled by his own reflection in the water. He stood and followed Marnie at her call.

They returned to camp. By now, the steeds were loaded down and most of the supplies were gathered. Marnie stood by the elk and stuffed her mess kit in the saddle bag before giving the elk an affectionate stroke on the neck. She heard Gale stir behind her and turned around. Her pawn had drawn his staff and was now pacing close by her, staring beyond the river at something she couldn’t see. Like he was debating running ahead or staying by her.

“Is your pet having a problem?” Vivienne prompted.

“Gale?” Marnie asked.

The pawn didn’t respond. Marnie felt a sinking dread in her chest.

“We need to leave.”

“What?” Trevelyan prompted.

“We need to leave now,” Marnie insisted, grabbing her tent and frantically lashing it behind the elk’s saddle. “He senses something.”

The others began packing double-time, but not another minute passed before they were interrupted by an ear-splitting shriek. They all looked skyward in horror as a great black dragon soared out from behind a ridge on the horizon, right towards their camp. The dragon overtook the camp in seconds, fire spilling from its maw. A line of flame ran straight down the middle of camp, destroying some tents and supplies and startling the horses. Blackwall, Solas, and Cassandra had to scramble to collect the horses before they ran off alone.

Trevelyan glanced between the remains of the camp and the dragon. The dragon was circling high above, about to deliver another blow, surely. The dragon refused to land; she was still afraid of them, but she had the advantage of flight. She was going to drive them out. Trevelyan only hoped that’s all she aimed to do. They didn’t have the means to fight a dragon; they were poorly prepared, low on supplies, and ready to run. Trevelyan knew to take the opportunity to retreat when he could.

“Gather all the supplies you can and run!” Trevelyan shouted. “Marnie, I mean it, don’t try fighting—”

“You don’t need to tell me twice, Inquisitor!” Marnie was already helping the others salvage what they could.

The dragon swooped low, fanning the flames and creating a gust of wind that tore through the camp. The dragon nearly grazed the Iron Bull on her way by, and Cole had to clutch his hat so he wouldn’t lose it. Gale wrapped a protective arm around Marnie, pushing her closer to the elk.

“She’s not letting up, boss!” Iron Bull shouted. She was driving the horses and people alike, and she was fast enough that she could easily run them down even if they managed to flee. And they couldn’t risk leading her to another camp. “Some of us need to distract her so we don’t lose everything.”

He wasn’t wrong, but Trevelyan would be damned if people ended up injured or killed over a distraction tactic. Still, they had little choice....

“Bull, if this is a ploy so you get to fight that thing, so help me—”

Gale was already acting. “You mind the camp! I’ll act as bait until you reach safety.”

“Wait!” Marnie clutched his arm firmly. He looked at her. She didn’t know why she’d stopped him. She knew he could do this. She came to her sense and nodded. “I’ll call you when we’re in the ravine. Keep her off of us.”

“I will,” Gale nodded, and she released him with a final look of sympathy.

“Gale, wait—” Trevelyan started.

“Let him go,” Marnie ordered.

Gale ran all the way out to the river, waving his arms and shouting at the dragon. The black dragon didn’t hesitate to run him down. She didn’t want even one of them getting away—little did she know how resilient this mage would be. The dragon ran him down, landing on top of him, crushing him to the rocks and earth with her great claws, and leaving him crumpled and limp on the riverbank.

Trevelyan flinched. Though he knew Gale couldn’t permanently die, the pawn’s demise was still a visceral thing to witness. However, before the dragon circled back to the others, the red gem on Gale’s staff began to glow and pulsate. Gale stood upright again, as if new life was breathed into him by the power of that staff. The very worst of his injuries mended until his body was just above workable. Gale drew his staff and took aim at the black dragon. A few wayward spells drew her attention again, and this time the dragon stayed focused on him, like a cat to a particularly interesting or frightening toy.

“Let’s go!” Marnie brought Trevelyan out of his trance. She’d already mounted her elk.

Iron Bull and Gale’s plan went over without a hitch. Gale kept the dragon distracted while the others gathered the horses and ran on foot and on horseback through the trees. They only slowed when they emerged from the forest to the rocky pass not a league from the first established Inquisition camp. By then, the sounds of the battle were a quiet echo that sounded like thunder or peculiar wind. Marnie dismounted her elk and called out.

“Gale!” She whistled. “Come!”

With an audible disturbance in the Veil they could all feel, Gale appeared in the middle of their group, bruised, bloody, battered, and quivering with the effort it took to stay upright.

“Brother!” Cole cried, darting forth and wrapping his arms around Gale as tightly as he dared.

“She shouldn’t bother us again,” Gale reported, his voice faint.

“Good,” Marnie gave a shaky nod. She helped Cole get Gale to the elk. There was no way Gale could walk far in his current state.

Trevelyan wasn’t the only one bewildered by the sight of the pawn. Mages in general weren’t armored to take that kind of a beating, and now that Gale had probably expired several times during his scuffle with the dragon, they realized just how resilient pawns were.

“We should stop,” Varric said.

“No,” Cassandra argued. “She might catch up to us. We need to go a little farther first.”

“Look at him, Seeker! Do you really think he’ll make it a little farther?”

“You don’t need to stop for Gale,” Marnie cut them both off. She stared at Gale as long as she could stand it. “He’ll make it.”

Trevelyan wanted to argue, but recollection of what all had happened during the encounter stopped him. If Gale was kept alive by that staff, what was there to lose if they didn’t stop? The alternative ran the risk of that dragon pursuing them. He lead the others onward to the Inquisition camp, and no one dared say a word. The silence was only occasionally broken by Gale’s staff glowing again and the pawn drawing a particularly ragged breath.

-

When they finally reached the Inquisition camp, the Inquisitor told the scouts what had happened and gave everybody a chance to catch their breath before they headed out again. Trevelyan offered to stay at the camp for a few hours to let Gale rest, but the pawn wouldn’t hear of it. Actually, at some point he looked noticeably uncomfortable at the Inquisitor’s offer. Marnie stayed right beside Gale as he healed himself and drank a little water. The anodyne did a better job than the Legion’s Might staff alone when it came to healing Gale’s injuries. However, the severity of the injuries and the time Gale suffered between receiving the injuries and healing them left a few sore spots and achey bones.

“’Tis alright,” Gale muttered diplomatically as they got ready to leave again. “Maybe I’ll develop a sense for the weather with these bones, like Ser Blackwall.”

“Attempting to lighten the mood with humor,” Varric nodded. “I can appreciate the attempt, Firefly.”

Gale smiled proudly. He seemed completely unaware of how uncomfortable everyone else was.

“Speaking of which,” Blackwall said, looking at the path ahead where the sky darkened with clouds. “I think we’re in for a shower.”

-

The trip back to Skyhold took a few days. Cassandra, the Inquisitor, and Varric graciously offered to distribute a bit of Marnie and Gale’s stuff among themselves so the elk could carry Marnie and Gale at once. With this arrangement, Marnie could steer the elk and Gale could lean on her and sleep. Cole had his eyes on Gale the entire trip.

They did get a bit of rain, but thankfully it was little more than a sprinkle and they didn’t have to stop. When they set up camp that evening, Marnie let Gale sit by the fire while she took over pitching their tent. While he was waiting, Gale took notice of Blackwall kneeling by the fire and twisting his left hand constantly. Perhaps the severity of the rain didn’t have proportional affect on his bad wrist.

Gale inched closer to Blackwall, nearly stumbling and falling against the man as he did so.

“What’re you—” Blackwall stiffened, too worried about Gale’s wounds to try pushing the boy.

“Gale!” Marnie dropped the tent and darted towards them, intent on pulling Gale away and apologizing profusely on his behalf, but she never got that far.

Gale took Blackwall’s arm and pulled a pot of some kind of salve from his bag. Gale handed it to Blackwall with a weak smile.

“For your wrist,” he explained.

“Oh,” Blackwall blinked. “Thank you.”

Gale all but collapsed against his shoulder as Blackwall went about spreading the pale green salve on his wrist.

Marnie usually took the first watch and shared a tent with Gale the rest of the night. Cole usually accompanied Marnie while she was on watch, and she was always grateful for that. She occupied him by showing him how to make the fire change colors or telling him how to make traditional campfire treats. But on the third night, Marnie was tense and silent.

“Don’t worry,” Cole patted her shoulder timidly. “Gale will be fine.”

Marnie smiled and clasped her hand over his on her shoulder. “You don’t need to do that, Cole.”

“But you’re worried, and I want to help.”

“Are you putting on?” Marnie looked amused.

“No.”

Cole didn’t look hurt, thankfully, though he was confused. Marnie’s expression fell again.

“Your feelings are real, Cole? All of them?”

“Of course,” Cole replied. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Because most of the pawns are putting on. You know that, right?”

“Feelings are... hard for pawns,” Cole explained carefully. “They copy human behavior so people don’t treat them so strangely, but the feelings are still there. Wounded, worrying—has the Arisen been hit? They’re afraid when you fall, when you could fade away. Carried away by a harpy, crushed beneath a drake’s claws.”

Marnie looked at him for a moment. She hadn’t seen any harpies on the mainland. “You took all of that from Gale’s head.”

“Yes,” Cole nodded. “It’s easy to hear pawns, but not much calls me there. It’s like listening to the wind or the birds. It’s always there, just not noticed unless you try.”

“Except for the other day?” Marnie asked. “When we were skinning the rabbits.”

“He was sick,” Cole insisted. “I wanted to help.”

-

Gale knew he wasn’t alone because he felt someone pressing a cool cloth against his face. When he opened his eyes, he expected to see his Arisen but was surprised to find an elven mage instead. Solas gazed calmly at Gale, even as the pawn scrambled to sit upright.

“Easy, da’len,” Solas placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “You should be resting.”

“What are you doing in here?” Gale demanded, eyes darting around the tent. “S-she wouldn’t leave me alone with you.”

Gale trembled, but he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or weakness. Solas didn’t seem offended at Gale’s behavior. He remained calm, a steady foundation Gale was tempted to cling to. To return to that emotionless serenity.

“The Arisen asked me to watch over you,” Solas explained in a whisper. “I do have a knack for keeping people alive, particularly after Fade-related... mishaps.”

Gale’s expression changed. “She did?”

“Yes. She’s very worried for you.”

Gale averted his eyes, flinching when Solas pressed the cloth against his face again. After a moment, he relaxed.

“What did it mean?” Gale asked. “Da’len.”

“Ah. It’s an elven term of endearment, particularly for someone who is young.”

“You’re endeared by me?”

Solas fought a smile at the awkward way he phrased it. “I suppose your Arisen and I didn’t have a chance to tell you about our adventure in the ramparts. I think you’ll find that the Arisen and I have become quite close after recent events.”

“You weren’t with her when she was injured,” Gale narrowed his eyes.

“No. I was keeping our enemies occupied so Iron Bull could tend to her. I knew you were coming to her rescue.”

Gale was silent.

“When we were searching the ramparts, your Arisen misstepped and she was separated from the rest of the group. I stayed with her until we reached the others again.”

“Oh,” Gale understood then. He didn’t leave his Arisen alone. “Thank you, Solas. I know my Arisen is strong, but... she really doesn’t want to be alone.”

“I know,” Solas nodded. “That’s why I stayed with her. You should get back to sleep.”

“But I...” Gale yawned. A sudden pang of comfort and drowsiness hit him all at once. His body felt too heavy to move and his eyes closed. He managed to speak in a low mumble. “Why’d you stay?”

“You would’ve done the same,” Solas said. “As would she. I think we’re similar enough to justify that, don’t you think?”

Gale sighed. He didn’t have the energy to think on it any longer.

-

They reached Skyhold within the next day. After taking the rest of the day off to rest, Trevelyan went right back to making plans for Crestwood. He planned to take Vivienne, Blackwall, Cassandra, and Varric with him, and their primary focus would be finding Hawke and his Warden contact. They had a day or two in Skyhold to rest up and prepare for the journey, and each of them took full advantage.

Gale made a full recovery by the time they reached Skyhold, but Marnie gave him a day to himself both as a reward for how well he did during their trip but also to make sure he was fully recovered. He still wasn’t acting quite right after his encounter with the dragon, and without resources such as a Riftstone or Pawn Guild to turn to, Marnie couldn’t help but worry for him. So she spent the morning doing the most calming thing she could think of.

The red elk was a little cranky after the long trip and furiously side-eyed Marnie when she saw her coming. However, when Marnie brought nothing but a brush and a pocket full of forage, the elk relaxed and dozed at the front of the stall. Marnie fed the elk the blossoms from her hand and stroked the elk’s fur, allowing her tension to ease away.

“That’s a remarkably loyal steed,” Blackwall told her from where he sat at the table. “We almost couldn’t get her to come with us when we left the ramparts to come find you. She refused to budge until Cole talked her into it.”

“Cole’s good with animals?” Marnie asked.

“Apparently,” Blackwall replied gruffly. “I think Cole’s good in a lot of ways that go unnoticed.”

A smile tugged at Marnie’s lips. “I agree. Although loyalty nearly got her killed a number of times.”

“That’s certainly a possibility,” Blackwall allowed. “Taming anything comes with great responsibility.”

Marnie felt troubled again. You are responsible for what you tame, she knew that. It didn’t make it any easier.

After brushing the elk, Marnie wandered outside. The weather was pleasantly sunny, so she didn’t worry about being by herself. She settled in the stable yard and looked over her daggers. Before long, Cole stepped into her field of vision, carrying himself as awkwardly as ever but eyeing her all the same. Marnie didn’t mind him as he inched closer and knelt on the ground by her feet. He perched his hands on her thigh and watched her work.

“Dragon’s Vein,” Cole whispered, so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. He rubbed one of his eyes indifferently. “Forged in fire, dragon’s blood. They glisten, almost otherworldly. Such is the magic of the Dragon.” He looked up at her. “Did Grigori give them to you?”

Marnie half-smiled and brushed some dirt from his face. He stiffened but almost immediately relaxed and pressed into the touch.

“Hello, Cole,” she greeted. “What are you up to?”

“Cold, but not callous, avoided, but avid.... I wanted to ask you something...” Cole sat back and fiddled with his gloves. “When I fight, my daggers know where to go, but... they don’t move like yours?”

“That’s... not a question,” Marnie shook her head.

Cole looked up silently.

“Are you asking me to train with you?” Marnie asked patiently.

“Yes,” Cole relaxed. He got to his feet and brushed the dust off his pants. “I think I can do it if you show me, but I haven’t been able to watch you when things are trying to kill us.”

“’Tis no trouble,” Marnie replied, standing as well.

They went to the training area—a little piece of the yard fenced off for soldiers and recruits to spar and practice. Targets and training dummies lined one edge of the yard. Marnie took her daggers from her belt, and Cole took his from the sheaths tied to his back.

“You tie them there,” Cole noted, gesturing to Marnie’s hips. “Why?”

“I usually have a bow with me as well,” Marnie replied. “Tying my daggers here helps me switch between the two in the field.”

“Oh,” Cole nodded. “I’ve never tried archery....”

“I can’t teach you,” Marnie shrugged him off. “I haven’t... the best eye for it.”

“Oh, right,” Cole nodded, but he still mimicked holding his daggers by his hips like he’d kept them there all along.

-

The dreams Gale had were frightening, simply because of how odd they were. The pawn was unused to sleeping, but he’d slept enough to have a dream or two in his life. His Arisen explained it as little thoughts a person has went sleeping, none of it quite real, but all of it relevant all the same. So if Gale had a nightmare about his Arisen dying, that only meant he was worried about her dying, and if he dreamed about fighting a chimera, he was probably just thinking about the last time he and his Arisen fought a chimera.

These dreams were different. They had nothing to do with anything Gale could remember. There was no grounding element at all, and it made Gale feel like he’d forgotten something very important. He was always in the wild, and always alone. He usually started out running. His gait was odd, like he was on a horse, but he was too low to the ground for such a thing. He was lost and alone and scared, and he couldn’t even remember his own name or what master he served.

When Gale awoke, he was still lethargic, but he didn’t want to sleep again. He got out of bed and began looking for his Arisen. All the while, he was acutely aware of how strangely parallel the world felt, how oddly empty and wrong, as if he was still in a dream, until he saw his Arisen through a window in the yard below.

-

Marnie showed Cole a few tricks like he’d requested. She taught him how to sprint with his blades extended and how to unleash a barrage of blows while anchored in place. She tried teaching him how to utilize the world around him to his advantage—that there were more weapons than just the blades in his hands. Cole learned all of this eagerly and sometimes executed moves with the grace of a master, like he just needed to see it to learn it. He wasn’t unlike a pawn in that way.

“You climbed up a giant in the Storm Coast,” Cole remembered. “Can you teach me that?”

“Who told you about that?” Marnie asked.

“Oh, nobody,” Cole shook his head and looked down at his shoes. “The Inquisitor has nightmares about it sometimes. He’s afraid of heights.”

“Oh.” Fresh regret of the incident made Marnie wince. But there were more pressing things at hand. “Of course. I can show you.”

“Another time, then?” Cole suggested suddenly. “I have other people to help.”

“Of course,” Marnie smiled. “I’ll be seeing you, then?”

“Yes,” Cole smiled and nodded. “Soon, Arisen.”

Then he vanished, unlike how he’d lingered with her to begin with. Marnie stared past the place he’d been, catching sight of a familiar mage cloaked in a pale, elegant dress.

“Arisen, dear, I do hope you’re being careful with that thing following you around all the time.”

“Which one?” Marnie walked past Vivienne but kept her eyes on her in a silent invitation to walk together.

“You know which one,” Vivienne’s eyebrow arched. She stayed put, halting the Arisen in her tracks. “Cole is not one of your pawns, Arisen. He may be susceptible to your will, but he’s not part of your ilk.”

“He’s not a demon either,” Marnie dismissed.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Simple, if he was a demon, he’d be repelled by the anodyne Gale casts.”

“A phantom, then?” Vivienne suggested. “They’re just as problematic on the mainland.”

A new voice spoke up behind Vivienne, almost startling the mage.

“Phantoms are crepuscular,” Gale said, circling around her to stand at Marnie’s side. “They’re most often seen in the light between night and day. Cole is seen at all hours.”

“Your pet would do well not to do that again, wouldn’t you agree, Arisen?” Vivienne spoke in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Marnie sighed. “Gale’s a pawn. Pawn exhibit certain behaviors. If you can’t adjust, ‘tis your problem.”

“Perhaps, but if he’s your responsibility, we need to be able to trust that you have him under control.”

“Of course,” Marnie insisted. She waited it out for a moment before speaking again. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“No, dear. You may go when ready.”

Marnie felt a hardening her chest, like she wanted to shout. But she didn’t know what to say, so she just left as she was allowed. She stalked across the yard with Gale trailing behind her.

-

After a bit of walking around to unwind, Marnie went upstairs to their room to see what she could do about patching up Gale’s clothes. She encouraged Gale to wander Skyhold for a bit; she didn’t want him to be bored in their room all day.

“What would you have me do, Arisen?” Gale asked.

“You have friends here, for once,” she said. “Go see them.”

So Gale did as he was asked. Almost everyone was busy with their own affairs today. Varric was writing and didn’t want to be disturbed, Solas was painting and didn’t want to be disturbed, Blackwall was in the barn and really didn’t want to be disturbed. Iron Bull was with his Chargers, so Gale didn’t want to intrude on them. Dorian was spending the day lavishing himself with a hot bat, redoing his nails, drinking the finest shitty drink he could find, and reading by himself. The Inquisitor and Cassandra were in a meeting with the advisers. And Gale didn’t think anyone else would want to see him even if they were free. Save for Cole, who apparently could use Gale’s help today.

Cole brought Gale to the underforge, where Dagna and the blacksmith were in the middle of a heated argument. They were arguing about evicting the brood of kittens. Dagna argued that they were too small to be “just kicked out,” but neither she nor the blacksmith had the time or the lack of cat allergies to take on the task of moving them. That’s where Cole and Gale came it, apparently.

After Cole only murmured something to Dagna and the blacksmith, telling them not to worry, the two of them returned to their work as if they’d forgotten about the argument entirely. Cole and Gale then knelt by the small nook where the queen and her children still rested. Cole reached for the queen, but she swiped at him with a warning growl.

“We should find a place to put them,” Gale suggested. “Afore we try to move them. The less we have to hold them, the better.”

“Yes, right,” Cole nodded and tugged Gale out of the underforge by his sleeve.

“What about the kitchen?” Gale suggested. “’Tis surely warm enough. If we made a bed behind the stores of grain, she’d be out of the way.”

“No...” Cole considered it. “Too loud. Too many people. Let’s keep looking.”

Gale ran out of ideas at that point. He had a limited capacity to think of such things alone. The tavern wasn’t suitable, the armory wasn’t warm enough. The two had made their way across the yard before it occurred to Cole.

“The stables,” he realized. “Warm, dry, desolate.... It’s perfect.”

“Let’s have a look then,” Gale suggested, tugging the door of the barn open.

Blackwall was within, chipping away at a block of wood with a carving knife. He glanced up at the two boys, but Cole didn’t regard him before poking around the stable. Gale stood by the door and waited for Cole, but Blackwall was acutely aware of the pawn’s eyes locked on him.

“Can we put them in the loft?” Cole asked.

“I suppose we could,” Gale nodded.

“Put who in the loft?” Blackwall asked. He slept out here; he at least wanted to know who he’d be sharing with.

“A family of cats,” Gale replied. “They need a better place to stay.”

Cole was already in the loft, shuffling through the bales of hay to make a small, concealed clearing for the cats.

“Be careful when moving them,” Blackwall sounded simultaneously patient and pained. “The last thing they’d want is to be forcibly evicted.”

They stole a basket from the kitchen and some herbs as well to hopefully make the cats a little calmer. As Blackwall predicted, the mother cat was not happily evicted and practically shredded Cole’s arms as she was handled. Gale eventually took off his cloak and wrapped her up tightly but carefully. The kittens were under a similar amount of stress being separated from their mother for even a moment too long.

Gale practically shoved the queen in the basket with the kittens, only moving more slowly when Cole admonished him to be more gentle. Then Gale covered the whole basket with his cloak, and he and Cole carried it up and to the barn like they’d planned. Needless to say, the residents of Skyhold didn’t expect to see two young men struggling to carry a shaking, screaming basket across the fort, but strange things seemed to just happen this year.

The mother cat was pretty irate with them, but she retreated to the exact spot they prepared for her with her kittens in tow. Gale helped her move all the kittens, for which he was rewarded with a clawed slap on the wrist for each second he touched any of them.

“We’re sorry about this,” Cole whispered. The mother cat stilled and glared at him. “You’ll be safer here, and you won’t lose any of your kittens.”

The cat flicked her tail. She seemed a bit calmer, but Gale and Cole didn’t push their luck by sticking around.

-

Cole squirmed as Marnie poured more cold water over his arms. She gently washed the stinging scratches on his arms and hands and applied a soothing balm that drew the sting right out.

“I don’t know why you two were troubling those cats to begin with,” Marnie said.

“The people in the underforge wanted to move them,” Cole explained.

“I see,” Marnie nodded.

Gale was sitting on the edge of the well on Marnie’s other side, already tending to his own wounds. He would’ve healed them with magic, but Marnie and Cole seemed to like things as they were, for some strange reason.

“Dorian’s buying everyone drinks because he lost the quiet game,” Cole chattered as he watched Marnie wrap his arms. “They want you to be there.”

“Do they?”

“Yes,” Cole looked up at her. “They like you, Arisen. Cullen and Sera will be there.”

“So?”

“Cullen likes you. And Sera wants another girl to be there.”

“Alright,” Marnie rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair as she got to her feet. She handed him his hat. “I will go to the tavern. Will you two be joining me?”

“Probably,” Cole nodded. “Maybe... later.”

“Whatever you choose,” Marnie nodded. “Gale, I’ll be upstairs in a few hours.”

“Yes, Master.”

-

“No. One. One drink per person, that’s all I’m paying for.”

“Oh, come on, Dorian, don’t be so stingy,” Sera chastised, a mug already in her hand.

“How dare you call me stingy, I’m buying drinks for our whole group,” Dorian played along. Then he gestured as he saw Marnie coming. “And look, there’s another one! I shall never financially recover.”

Dorian, Sera, Iron Bull, Varric, Blackwall, and Cullen had taken up a table or two in the corner of the tavern.

“Finally,” Sera muttered as she leaned back in her chair.

“Hello,” Marnie greeted awkwardly as she sat at a free chair between Varric and Cullen. How long had they been here? Marnie ordered an ale and thanked the barmaid that brought it to her.

“Where’s your other half?” Cullen asked.

“I gave him the day off,” Marnie replied.

“And he’s recovering alright?” Cullen pressed. “I heard about what happened with the dragon. I can’t believe—”

“He’s fine,” Marnie insisted. Then she gave a damp smile. “Actually, he’s well enough that he and Cole spent the day removing a family of cats from the underforge.”

“Is that what that was about?” Blackwall asked, then shook his head.

“Torn to bits, they were,” Marnie took a sip of her ale. “And earlier, Cole had me help him train.”

“And he actually listened to you?” Dorian smirked.

“What? I thought he listened to everyone. With his desire to help people....”

“Not hardly,” Cullen frowned. “Most of us can hardly find him half the time, and it’s impossible to tell him to do anything and expect a straight result.”

“Huh.” Marnie brushed some hair out of her face and took another sip.

“Binding magic?” Blackwall guessed.

Marnie wiped her mouth. “Nothing of the sort! ‘Tis simply the condition of the Arisen. Arisen compel things from the Fade, and Cole is Fade-born. ‘Tis nice he’s not attacking me.”

“Some people around here wouldn’t get so comfortable,” Varric mumbled.

“Vivvy, you mean?” Marnie gave him a bored eye rolling look. Sera snickered.

“Among others!” he clarified.

Marnie smirked. “So what did you do today?”

“Well, I wrote a particularly compelling scene where a mage has to tame a dragon....”

-

Meanwhile, Vivienne occupied her balcony, making preparations to leave again in between tending her own duties and research. She was deeply engrossed in her work, so Cole was sure not to startle her.

“Vivienne?” he began quietly.

Vivienne gazed over her shoulder at him. “You’ve taken my advice about not startling people, I see,” she faced him. “It turns out you can learn. Although I recommend approaching from the front next time.”

Cole sat in one of the high-back chairs, pulled his knees to his chest, and tucked his hands under his chin.

“She used to be scared of him, too.”

“I’m not scared of anyone. You’ll do well to remember that.”

Cole nodded and made note of it.

“The Arisen was afraid of Gale because of what he is,” Cole said plainly. “Strange, otherworldly, rigid, not right. She used to have nightmares about him.”

“Well, time has the ability of wearing down a person’s defenses. And sense.”

“She learned Gale was better when she was better,” Cole continued. “She can’t stand for anyone to think of him like that anymore. He won’t hurt anyone. He only wants to help her, and she needs him.”

“No one’s questioning that,” Vivienne dismissed with a roll of her eyes.

“She knows not to let me be bad,” Cole concluded. “She can tell me not to be. Now that she’s here, she can keep me from doing bad things.”

“As long as she herself doesn’t do ‘bad things,’” Vivienne countered. “The Arisen is as flawed as any human being, demon. Or does your worship of her blind you of the very idea?”

“She won’t hurt people,” Cole tried not to sound defensive.

“Let’s all hope so.”

Cole sighed. Her words bothered him, but he wasn’t sure if it was the kind of bother he should listen to. Varric had explained it better; sometimes people say things to you, but they don’t really know better than you do. At least Vivienne knew the truth. Cole knew he’d done all he could here, so he decided to leave before he irritated her. It was strange to him. Vivienne was so lonely, yet she never wanted to be around the others.

-

Gale watched his Arisen drink and talk with the others from outside the farthest window of the tavern. That’s where Solas found him.

“Watching your Arisen from afar, da’len?” Solas asked, a hint of amusement finding its way into his voice.

Gale startled and looked at him.

“Yes,” he admitted.

Solas gave him a gentle smile. “Would you care to join me? I’d gladly keep you company for the evening, if your Arisen is occupied.”

“She’s... drinking,” Gale muttered. Solas listened to him patiently. “I shouldn’t leave her alone when she’s in such a situation.”

“I see,” Solas nodded in understanding. “Gale, you do not have to worry about her here. Master Tethras wouldn’t let her stumble drunkenly into the night without a trusted escort. Cole would probably come to her aid if that were the case, and you could probably sense her distress and come to her first. She’ll be safe with the others.”

With that, he managed to convince him. Gale agreed, and Solas brought him indoors to the rotunda.

“You may sit where you like,” Solas said. “Or stand, if you’d be more comfortable.”

Gale wandered the room, eager to learn about it. He hadn’t had a chance to look at the rotunda in detail yet. He looked at the furniture, the crates, the walls, the floor, the doorways, the slivers of the library he could see when he stood against the wall. Solas lingered by the desk and watched him with fascination and even a little warmth. He’d never seen something so inquisitive. Getting to observe Gale alone when Gale wasn’t in his usual state of performative normality gave Solas whole new perspective on the pawn.

Solas looked down at the books and sheets of parchment scattered on his desk. He’d been taking notes and doing research about their new findings of the Fade, (both Inquisition-related and otherwise). All he’d learned so far probably didn’t touch the experience of the Arisen and her pawn.

Gale hadn’t moved in some time, so Solas joined him. The pawn was staring at the mural on the wall, but the particular part that caught his attention was at the very end.

“I just finished that today,” Solas said, standing behind Gale.

Gale didn’t have much experience or appreciation for the arts. He understood why humans liked and needed music and art, but he had a hard time distinguishing meaning from frivolity. This section of the painting stood out from the rest; it was still abstract and grand, but the colors were mostly shades of red. Gale wasn’t confident in deciphering the shapes, but there was a person and there was a dragon and there were wolves.

“Have you studied much about the arts?” Solas asked. “I think you’d find them quite interesting.”

Gale hadn’t looked away from the painting. Was that...?

Was that his Arisen?

Solas stepped closer to Gale and tilted his head to get a better look at the boy’s features.

“Da’len?”

Gale’s face was unreadable. Blank, almost hollow. The painting seemed to have mesmerized him quite completely. Solas folded his arms behind his back and looked up at the artwork as well.

“Yes, I suppose it could use more color.”


	10. Here Lies the Abyss

Chapter 10: Here Lies the Abyss

The trip to Crestwood took almost two full weeks. The day the Inquisitor finally returned, Marnie and Solas were in the rotunda. Solas had offered to host Marnie for some tea and polite conversation about current events. Given how things were going, they probably wouldn’t get another chance for such a meeting once the Inquisitor returned. Marnie and Solas sat in high-backed chairs on opposite sides of Solas’s desk while Solas poured a cup of tea. They eventually settled on the topic of their respective companions.

“I appreciate you watching out for Gale the last few days.” Marnie sounded apologetic. “I’m sure he’s enjoyed the stimulation. I’ve been a little busy with Cole the last few days.”

“It’s been a pleasure. It turns out pawns are quite helpful when given a task to occupy them.” Solas smiled at her, handing her the teacup on a saucer. Marnie leaned back in her chair.

“Are you not having any?” she indicated the tea.

“Oh, no,” Solas declined. “I detest the stuff, personally.”

Marnie’s eyebrows bounced. She felt a little guilty for accepting his offer of tea in the first place if she was the only one drinking it. Then again, he offered. She took a sip.

“I am curious, though,” Solas leaned forward, propping his chin on his entangled hands. “You do understand that Cole, whatever he is, isn’t a pawn, nor was he ever.”

“You think I can’t tell the difference between a pawn and common folk? I’ve held the company of pawns since being hailed as the Arisen—years now have I adapted to their nature. I knew Cole wasn’t one of them since the moment I laid eyes on him.”

“Then why are you indulging him?” Solas narrowed his eyes. “Does it entertain you? To be cruel to him like you are to Gale?”

Marnie’s gaze became a glare.

“Am I cruel for speaking to him?” she demanded. “Or for being kind to him? Few in Skyhold can remember he exists, and even fewer treat him like anything higher than refuse. How am I cruel to him?”

“By encouraging him, Arisen,” Solas almost said her title disdainfully, as if he knew how much it irritated her. “You may know he’s not a pawn, but he hangs on your every word like an order, just as Gale does. And when he inevitably learns the truth—that he doesn’t belong to you—your indulgence would torment him. He can’t have you without corrupting what he truly is.”

“He may not be a pawn, but he’s young,” Marnie argued. “You considered it, but I know it. He needs guidance, a gentle hand that I’ve extended to countless pawns over the age. I know how to speak to him, how to listen to him. ‘Tis an Arisen’s responsibility to guide those from the Fade.”

“The Arisen has no responsibilities in Thedas. You and your main pawn are passing through. You have no way and no right to assert yourself on the mainland.”

“I am a member of the Inquisition,” Marnie straightened. “I fully intend to aid the Inquisition in any way I can. Until Corypheus is defeated, I’m staying here.”

Solas narrowed his eyes. A tense silence settled between the two of them, as was typical. Thankfully, they could perish the thought of further conversation when one of the runners rushed into the room. The Arisen peered around the back of her chair at the boy.

“The Inquisitor has requested the Inner Circle meet for a war council,” he reported breathlessly. “Immediately.”

-

The Inquisition party returning from Crestwood were already waiting in the war room, as if they went straight there as soon as they reached Skyhold. Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen were already there as well, looking at the map or glancing over written reports. The remaining eight Inner Circle members arrived around the same time as each other. Cole appeared by the door in a puff of smoke right before the Arisen, and Gale was walking behind Marnie as if he’d been with her all day.

“Our expedition in Crestwood went over without a hitch,” Trevelyan opened the meeting with relieving news. Seeing as everyone was in one piece, the others assumed as much, but it was still nice to hear.

Trevelyan continued, summarizing the expedition in abridged but relevant fashion.

“We met with Varric’s friend Hawke and his Warden contact Stroud. According to Stroud, the Grey Wardens are hearing a Calling—it’s telling them they’re about to be consumed by the Blight. We’re not sure if Corypheus is behind it or not, but regardless, the Wardens are looking for a way even a few of them may survive. Their Warden-Commander Clarel has taken most of the Wardens to perform a blood ritual in the hopes they’ll be spared. They’re most likely performing the ritual here, at an old Tevinter ritual tower in the Western Approach.”

Trevelyan indicated a place on the southwest corner of map.

“I’ll be taking a group out tomorrow,” Trevelyan announced. “We need to stop this ritual and see what’s really going on. In the meantime, all of you rest up. I haven’t decided who I’ll take yet, but I’ll send for you in the morning.”

Each of the Inner Circle members filed out of the room, some making quiet conversation with each other as they went. Marnie and Gale, on the other hand, remained. Marnie went to the Inquisitor.

“Inquisitor, take us with you,” she implored. “Gale and I know the area, and we’re ready to travel.”

Trevelyan raised his eyebrows and looked at Gale.

“Are you recovering alright, Gale?” he asked.

“Yes, Inquisitor,” Gale nodded. “Pawns can operate in much harsher conditions than humans.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Trevelyan muttered, but he accepted Gale’s answer.

“You’re investigating a pull from the Fade,” the Arisen enunciated every word, emphasizing that she was fully aware of their mission, intent, and needs. “Gale and I could give you a different perspective. Also, Gale’s invulnerable to human binding, which is a reasonable precaution to take when dealing with blood mages.”

“You’re immune to binding?” Trevelyan demanded of Gale.

“Human binding,” Gale replied. “Dragons may bind pawns, but human mages cannot.”

So they could be guides, secondary Fade consultants, and a buffer against binding.

“You make a convincing argument, Marnie. Let’s see if your knowledge of the area comes in handy.”

Trevelyan nodded to his advisers. Josephine scribbled something on a sheet of parchment while Cullen spread a detailed map of the Western Approach over the table.

“It’s a little outdated,” Cullen said. “But it’s a start.”

Marnie pulled out her own admittedly simpler map and compared the two.

“The tower is here,” Cullen pointed. “You can take this route through the ravine. It’s the fastest way.”

“There’s already a marauder’s camp in the ravine,” Gale spoke up. “’Tis the most predictable route. And the most traveled.”

“There’s a path on the north side,” Marnie indicated an alternate route not far from the initial suggestion. “’Tis worn, but still usable if we’re not traveling by cart. And there are places of refuge here and here, in case anything happens while we’re out there.”

Trevelyan looked at the map. He liked their style of being overly cautious.

“The north path it is, then.”

-

Said path was more of a wade than a walk; the sand was loose and deep, but the trail was serviceable. The path would be a chore to walk, but today the party was riding in on horses and dracolisks. Trevelyan had brought Marnie, Gale, Varric, and Solas. They met no people along their way to the tower, but once the dunes gave way to solid ground overshadowed on either side by tall, ribbed sandstone walls, a few landmarks made the journey a little more interesting. A rock that was shaped like a bird, a dead tree with branches that formed a loose but visible spiral up to the sky. Gale pointed out two caves along the route—one in the side of the rocky ravine and the other in an unassuming ditch.

“A spring runs through that cave,” Gale said when he pointed out the ditch. “We stayed there for a few days when we first came here, before you recruited us.”

“How’d you know all this was here?” Varric asked. “How long were you two in the Western Approach, exactly?”

“A few weeks,” Marnie replied. “But I remember a lot about this area from when I came to Thedas the first time. The terrain is barely the same now, but I know its bones. One of my father’s clients made soaps out of a rare sand here. I was in the party that helped recover some for her projects. ‘Tis part of why I chose to come out here in the first place; I knew there were few people out here and even fewer who could keep up with us.”

“So when you said you were looking for sand, you really meant it.”

“I like to err on the side of honesty when I can.”

“Gale,” the Inquisitor urged his horse to walk in step with Marnie’s red elk. Gale raised his head from where it lay on Marnie’s shoulder. “Do you sense anything from the tower yet?”

“Yes,” Gale nodded. “There’s a Rift near it, opening and closing in rapid succession. I wonder if they’ve made a crude gateway somehow...?”

Trevelyan couldn’t help but notice how nonchalant he sounded, as if they were discussing the weather.

“Well, I suppose we’ll see it in full force when we get there,” Trevelyan nodded. “Thank you for your input, Gale.”

“Anytime,” Gale nodded before Trevelyan trotted forward again.

-

They saw the tower from half a mile away. The tower looked like a small castle, surrounded by a dry moat and only accessible by a bridge with a large gate protecting it. Luckily, no formidable militia stood guard outside, so though the Inquisition was in plain sight, they were out of danger of being noticed as they approached. Hawke and Stroud were already waiting for them.

“I’m glad you made it, Inquisitor,” Stroud greeted as Trevelyan dismounted his horse. “I fear they’ve already started the ritual.”

Hawke’s gaze wandered behind the Inquisitor, to Marnie and Gale. They’d never seen each other before, so Marnie nodded politely. Hawke looked at the Inquisitor.

“You take point,” he said. “I’ll guard your backs.”

Trevelyan nodded and cautiously led the group over the bridge.

The bridge gave access to a large, low platform before a stairway that lead into the tower. Wardens and demons stood in rows on either side of the platform, next to a tear in the Veil—one that probably opened into a Rift as Gale suggested. One of the Wardens cowered in the center of the platform while a second Warden held him at dagger point. None of the others seemed affected in the slightest, and the scene was approvingly supervised by a man standing at the top the stairway.

That man was Lord Livius Erimond, a Tevinter magister and one of the most active accessories to Corypheus’s most recent schemes. Erimond had a wiry figure draped in fine clothes. What he lacked in size, he made up for in posture. The way he carried himself and spoke implied he thought himself impeccable. And as someone executing the plans of Corypheus, Erimond probably thought he was the most important, most powerful person in the room.

“Warden-Commander Clarel’s orders were clear,” Erimond barked.

The first Warden turned. “This is wrong.”

“Remember your oath,” Erimond said. “In war, victory, in peace, vigilance, in death...”

The first Warden heard his opponent approach him and turned around again. The second Warden had closed in on him, and now uttered a quiet apology before stabbing him in the stomach.

“Sacrifice,” Erimond finished, watching the first Warden fall.

From the Rift, a Rage demon materialized with a hoarse shriek. The demon shuffled around for a moment, confused, in anguish.

“Good,” Erimond nodded. “Now bind it, just as I showed you.”

The remaining Warden extended his hand, taming or oppressing the demon with a flash of green light. The rage demon buckled under the spell, and both it and the Warden looked to Erimond for further guidance. Erimond waved his hand, summoning wisps of red light. The Warden seemed to stiffen and go limp at the same time, some light leaving his eyes as he was bound. He and the demon shuffled to join the ranks of Warden-demon pairs.

Erimond saw a group of people join them. One mage, two archers, three warriors, and among them, the Herald of Andraste.

“Inquisitor! What an unexpected pleasure.” Erimond introduced himself with a bow and a flick of his wrists. “Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service.”

“You are no Warden,” Stroud snapped.

“But you are,” Erimond retorted. “The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor, and came to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?”

“Your Warden mages don’t scare me,” Trevelyan said dismissively. “Binding demons was no way for the Wardens to respond to the Calling, but if I have to kill a few Warden mages, so be it.”

“You may have to kill a few, yes,” Erimond nodded. He looked at the row of paired Wardens and demons. “Wardens, hands up!”

He raised his hand, and the Wardens followed him in perfect synchronization.

“Hands down.”

Erimond lowered his hand again, and the hoard followed.

“Corypheus has taken their minds!” Stroud exclaimed.

“They did this to themselves,” Erimond corrected. “You see, the Calling had the Wardens terrified. They looked everywhere for help.”

“Even Tevinter,” Stroud realized.

“Yes. And since it was my master who put the Calling into their little heads, we in the Venatori were prepared. I went to Clarel full of sympathy, and together, we came up with a plan. Raise a demon army, march into the Deep Roads, and kill the Old Gods before they wake.”

Trevelyan steeled at the memory.

“I saw Corypheus marching across Orlais with an army of demons, in the future I saw in Redcliffe,” he told the others.

“And now you know how that future begins,” Erimond replied. “Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect. They’re now my master’s slaves. This was a test. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the ritual, the army will conquer Thedas.”

Trevelyan didn’t look at his comrades, but he knew they were all just as disconcerted as he was. Erimond and Clarel’s plan was the stuff of madness, and it needed to be stopped. But first, Trevelyan needed more information, and a little more time....

“Why would the Wardens try to kill the Old Gods?” Trevelyan asked.

“A Blight happens when darkspawn find an Old God and corrupt it into an archdemon,” Erimond explained. “If someone fought through the Deep Roads and killed the Old Gods before they could be corrupted, poof. No more Blights. Ever. The Wardens sacrifice their lives and save the world.”

“Why would Clarel risk using demons?” Trevelyan needled.

“Demons need no food, no rest, no healing,” Erimond replied. “Once bound, they will never retreat, never question orders. They are the perfect army to fight through the Deep Roads. Or across Orlais, now they are bound to my master.”

Trevelyan glanced about the platform a final time. He felt an odd warmth latch onto his chest.

“That’s all I needed to know,” he smirked.

A flash of green light gently bloomed from Trevelyan’s chest, reaching out and burning the demons nearby and sending them and the Wardens into a frenzy. Erimond staggered momentarily, watching as the Inquisition and demons dove into heated battle. What mage had cast that spell? He hadn’t seen anyone raise so much as a hand. And how had it been so effective against his demons? Erimond put the inquiries aside for now and focused on the Inquisitor. He extended a hand, summoning that red glow once again. Trevelyan froze in place, his sword falling from his rigid hand as the Anchor pulsated and burned. Trevelyan gripped his hand and doubled over. He barely heard someone shout to protect the Inquisitor, but he could hear Erimond’s voice as if it penetrated his very mind.

“The Elder One showed me how to deal with you,” Erimond stated. “In the event you were foolish enough to interfere again—”

Something small and sharp struck Erimond in the head. He looked to the side of the platform, where a new mage was maneuvering around the battle to get a better shot. Gale threw another rock at Erimond. In the time Erimond was distracted, Trevelyan got to his feet and raised his hand to the Rift, feeling it pull and stretch like silk fabric.

“Is this the best your mages can do?” Erimond demanded, looking down at Gale. He grinned wickedly at the Inquisitor, pulling at the Anchor once again. “When I bring my master your head, his gratitude will be—”

The Rift exploded, sending Erimond flying back with a shout. Erimond lurched to his feet, watching the battle for a mere moment. He was staggered, and they weren’t at the advantage right now. He got to his feet and turned.

“Kill them!” he called over his shoulder as he fled.

Trevelyan felt the urge to go after him, but he knew they weren’t finished here.

“Are you alright?” Marnie asked as Trevelyan joined her. She’d been the one who shouted, he realized. And she probably hadn’t left his side either.

“Fine,” Trevelyan replied, raising his hand again. “Stay back.”

Gale’s surprise attack had already done a number on the demons, but one more kick from the Fade should finish them off. The others continued fighting the Wardens, striking each of them down easily as the Fade Rift leeched the strength from the demons until they all succumbed to returning to the Fade once again. Trevelyan sealed the Rift. After the straggling Wardens were dispatched, the Inquisition regrouped. Hawke immediately went to the Inquisitor.

“So. That went well.”

“You were right,” Stroud looked at Hawke. “Through their minds, the mages are slaves to Corypheus.”

“Of course,” Hawke bowed his head. “Sacrificed in the ritual. What a waste.”

“The mages killed their fellow Wardens,” Trevelyan said. “Nothing can justify that.”

“I don’t care about justification,” Hawke said. “It’s past time to take arms against the Wardens and stop this madness.”

“The Wardens were wrong, Hawke, but they had their reasons,” Stroud attempted to defend them.

“Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions,” Hawke argued. “And it never matters. In the end, you are always alone with your actions.”

Stroud turned to the Inquisitor. “I believe I know where the Wardens are, your worship. Erimond fled in that direction.” He pointed. “There’s a abandoned fortress that way. Adamant.”

“Good work,” Trevelyan nodded. “Find them, and let us know.”

“The Warden and I will scout out Adamant and confirm that the other wardens are there,” Hawke agreed. “We’ll meet you back at Skyhold.”

-

The Inquisitor loathed to back down when Erimond was within their grasp. However, with the threat of a demon army waiting for them wherever Erimond fled, Trevelyan knew they needed more forces and more planning if they wanted to make it past the front gates. While Hawke and Stroud scouted ahead, Trevelyan took the others homeward.

After reaching the fortress, confronting Erimond, and deciding what they were going to do next, the day was nearly over. The Inquisitor decided to take advantage of one of the hidden camp sites Marnie and Gale showed him. They’d stay the night and head out in the morning. They set up camp in the ditch cave Gale had pointed out. The narrow portal opened to an impressive cavern below, big enough to shelter all of them. A spring ran through the cavern, from a waterfall on the farthest wall to the opposite wall where it disappeared under a shelf of rock and to Maker knows where. The ceiling was riddled with holes worn through the rock over time, allowing a broken view of the night sky above. Trevelyan and the others set up a fire, laid out their bedrolls on a dry area, and spent the remainder of the evening winding down, tending wounds, cleaning armor, and anything else that felt painfully mundane after all they’d witnessed and heard that day. They all wanted to act, and they all knew they couldn’t. What was left of them was an aggressive patience.

Gale stood watch as the others slept, and he was just as bored as he was vigilant. At some point in the night, Marnie stirred for a brief period of time. She saw Gale lying on his back not far from the others, just within the glow of the fire. One arm folded under his head, staring up at the sky through the cracks in the cave ceiling, tossing a rock into the air and catching it every few moments. He knew she was awake. She didn’t even have to murmur to catch his attention.

“Yes, Master?” Gale asked quietly, not turning his head.

She sat up with an amused look on her face. “Something’s troubling you.”

Gale didn’t reply. An admission of guilt. Marnie folded her legs and leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she proposed.

Gale was quiet for another moment. When he did speak, he repeated something Erimond had said.

“Need no rest, no food, no healing,” he said. “They will never retreat, never question orders. Like us.”

Gale looked sidelong at Marnie, and she could only imagine the expression on his face. She gave him one of sympathy.

“What would they do with us here?” Gale continued. “Fight us like dogs in some war of theirs?”

“’Tis how Gransys kept its borders,” Marnie reminded him. “Barnaby served in the Duke’s army, remember? As did countless other pawns.”

“They’re the perfect army,” Gale recalled Erimond’s words once more. He still hadn’t told her what troubled him about all this. “Cole says that pawns here would be used to hurt people. I....”

“Say it,” Marnie commanded ever so gently. She wanted him to speak his mind about this.

“I don’t want to hurt people, Master,” Gale turned on his side to look at her. Oddly enough, he looked more fascinated than concerned. “Not as Cole says. I want to serve you, and ‘tis an honor, but....”

Marnie patiently sat through his usual deflections until he found direction again outside of her.

“It feels wrong... what they’re doing with the Wardens,” Gale finally said. Marnie gave him a reassuring smile.

“’Tis called morality, Gale. ‘Tis a good thing to develop.”

“’Tis a hard thing to bear,” Gale grumbled. “I can’t believe you humans stand having so many different feelings all the time.”

Marnie chuckled and returned into her bedroll for the night. “Good night, Gale.”

“Good night, Master.”

-

After returning to Skyhold, the Inquisitor heard from Hawke again. Their suspicions were confirmed; Erimond and his army were taking refuge in Adamant fortress in the Western Approach. With that information, Trevelyan called a war council meeting and made arrangements for them to charge the fortress. Per his request, Marnie, Solas, Dorian, Gale, Cole, Iron Bull, and Sera would be joining him. The night before they left, Skyhold was for the most part as lively as always. People still continued about their business as always. Only small corners of the fort were unusually quiet and tense.

Trevelyan was restless. He was usually worn out at the end of the day, but tonight he wandered Skyhold. He found most of his companions still up as well, and most of those still in public spaces. Varric was in the main hall, sitting with Hawke and talking with him. Trevelyan admonished them not to stay up too late, to which Hawke gave a teasing “okay, mum,” in response. Sera had locked herself away in her room and refused to talk to anyone, but Trevelyan could hear her pacing through the door. Cassandra was in the second level of the tavern, sitting at a table with Cole. It looked like she was showing him something in a book. Whether she was educating him, teaching him how to read, or just helping him wind down to make sure he was in the best shape for travel tomorrow, Trevelyan left her to it.

As for seeing Solas in the rotunda, Trevelyan had barely set foot into the room before Solas began shouting at him.

“We must stop the Wardens from carrying out this insane plan, Inquisitor! To seek out these Old Gods deliberately, in some bizarre attempt to preempt the Blight.”

“Obviously,” Trevelyan snapped. “But I don’t see what your arguing with me for. I wouldn’t mind never having another Blight. As for the Wardens, although what they did isn’t right, I don’t blame them for acting instead of reacting in their situation.”

“They acted stupidly.”

“How? By trying to end the Blight once and for all?”

“Yes!” Solas exclaimed. Couldn’t he get through to the Inquisitor at all? “Would it have worked? Do you know? Did they? The fools who first unleashed the Blight upon this world thought they were unlocking ultimate power.”

“Corypheus is raising a demon army, Solas. We delayed the Wardens, now we have to face this demon army in order to stop said army.”

“The demons are nothing,” Solas scoffed. “They’re a tool. Even if they hadn’t raised demons, the entire idea is wrong. Can’t you understand that? The Blight is not something one smugly outsmarts.”

“Fighting darkspawn is what Grey Wardens do. Managing the Blight is their responsibility, Solas. It’s ultimately up to them how they decide to confront it.”

“Responsibility is not expertise. Action is not inherently superior to inaction,” Solas’s tone had grown cold. “Forgive me, Inquisitor. The entire idea is... unnerving.”

The Inquisitor and Solas watched each other for a moment before Solas excused himself to continue his studies. Trevelyan almost regretted taking Solas to Adamant. He was way too passionate about issues that were just a little to up-and-to-the-left of what they were truly dealing with. But ultimately, Solas’s input would be invaluable. Trevelyan had to remember that.

-

The Arisen was similarly restless, even though her pawn tried to get her to bed at a reasonable hour. Eventually, she lit a candle and headed to the library. She picked over the shelves for some light reading, but found herself unusually picky tonight. She didn’t want a story with a lot of heroics, but she didn’t want to hear about romance, but she didn’t want to read anything nonfiction....

“Looking for some light reading?” Dorian whispered as he stepped up beside her. He seemed to be in the same situation as her.

Marnie gave him a warm look of pretend annoyance.

“You know we’re leaving in the morning,” Dorian reminded her. “Bright and early. My complexion will resent me.”

“I’ll read it to her.”

Dorian and Marnie turned around. Gale leaned against the bookshelf behind them with his arms crossed and a sullen look on his face. He was looking away and completely silent, as if he’d never spoken at all. Dorian exhaled when the urge to jump out of his skin passed.

“Gale, you really should be better at making yourself known,” Dorian warned gently. “Most people around Skyhold wouldn’t take so kindly to being startled.”

Gale didn’t reply. Dorian raised an eyebrow at Marnie.

“He’s pretending to be in a bad mood,” Marnie explained dismissively.

“And it’s not your doing?”

Marnie shrugged. She honestly didn’t know what was going on with him tonight.

“We’re heading out tomorrow on a big mission, Cole’s coming, Solas is coming, you’re coming. All people Gale and I care about. ‘Twould be a good time for a regular person to be upset.”

“I... think I understand what you mean,” Dorian said diplomatically. He gave Gale a nod. “I’m tempted to join him.”

“How come?”

“You’re acting as if this is some routine expedition. We’re charging head-first into a fortress probably filled to the brim with a bound Warden-demon army.... I feel like it’s a good position to be in if you want to ‘die on honorable death for our cause.’”

Marnie’s hand stilled over the spine of a book. Gale raised his head behind them.

“Are you worried?” she asked.

“We’re in an apt spot for something to happen,” Dorian replied. “You weren’t here when Corypheus destroyed Haven. And then after what happened to Gale went to Crestwood, the Inquisitor has been on eggshells. I suppose his trepidation has rubbed off on some of us.”

Marnie thought for a moment before speaking again. No one had really talked about Gale’s fall since it happened. To Marnie, the incident was one of many and not worth dwelling on. She never considered the possibility it was a traumatic event to the others. But she could empathize. She remembered when she was too shy to leave the city on a cloudy day for fear of something happening to her or her pawns. She remembered being wary.

“You’re not wrong,” Marnie finally replied. “But Trevelyan wouldn’t be taking us if he wasn’t sure we could look out for each other. Besides, we’ll have Gale. He’s more proficient than you’ve seen.”

Dorian grinned, but the gesture could’ve been anywhere between genuine and a diplomatic attempt to lighten up. “Yes, I’m looking forward to let loose on an army, I have to admit.”

“’Twill be exciting,” Gale spoke up, mimicking Dorian’s expression. Gale reached behind Marnie, grabbed a book, and showed it to her for approval. Marnie chuckled and took that as her cue to head to bed before her pawn began to fuss.

The three of them bid each other good night and dispersed for the evening. In the morning, they’d be setting off early for Adamant.


	11. Adamant Fortress

Inquisition forces charged Adamant fortress on a quiet, clear night. Once the attack began, the silence was forcibly evicted in favor of the echoes of shouting, metal clanging, arrows flying, and trebuches firing, all which lasted for hours on end. Commander Cullen oversaw the troops as they worked to breach the fortress. They fired trebuches at the fortress and balanced ladders against the walls of the fortress to give Inquisition soldiers access to the battlements. Meanwhile, a party moved a battering ram to the front gate, shepherded by soldiers carrying Inquisition banners or shields to keep them covered until they breached the gates. Several people were injured or killed in their attempts already, but the Inquisition wouldn’t let their deaths be for nothing.

Once the gates were open, a wave of Inquisition soldiers rushed in to clear out the Wardens and demons immediately inside. Cullen ushered the Inquisitor, Marnie, Gale, Solas, Dorian, Cole, Iron Bull, and Sera through the cleared path.

“They have machines for everything!” Gale noted, stealing one last glace at the battering ram before joining the others in the fight.

When the Wardens and demons were driven back, Cullen approached Trevelyan.

“Alright, Inquisitor, you have our way in. Best make use of it. We’ll keep the main host of demons occupied for as long as we can.”

“I’ll be fine,” Trevelyan said. He had Gale to heal him and the others to protect him; he didn’t risk being unprepared. Now they needed to reduce their losses as much as possible. “Just keep the men safe.”

“We’ll do what we have to, Inquisitor,” Cullen replied. “Warden Stroud will guard your back. Hawke is with our soldiers on the battlements. He’s assisting them until you arrive.”

They look up as a demon threw a man from the battlements before turning around and disappearing from sight again.

“There’s too much resistance on the walls,” Cullen informed Trevelyan. “Our men on the ladders can’t get a foothold! If you can clear out the enemies on the battlements, we’ll cover your advance.”

The layout of the fortress was nothing short of a maze of stairways, baileys, and balconies. The Inquisitor led the others through the fortress, fighting demons and bound Wardens as they went. They needed to thin out the enemy forces on the battlements and find Clarel, and they hadn’t a moment to spare.

But they could spare people. Trevelyan reached a section of the lower bailey where a group of Wardens were standing by themselves. No demons in sight. When the Wardens saw the Inquisitor, they looked defensive, but not outwardly hostile. They drew their weapons, but Trevelyan gave them a way out. It was clear they weren’t planning on going up against the group if they could help it.

“The Inquisition is here to stop Clarel, not to kill Wardens,” he said. “If you fall back, you won’t be hurt.”

“Alright, then,” one of the Wardens agreed, sheathing his sword. “My men will stay back. We want no part of this.”

Good. Trevelyan was already moving on again. They went up another staircase and passed through a few high-ceiling chambers. On the other side, the balcony opened to a wooden scaffolding that led to the battlements. The Wardens and demons were still fighting. Flaming rocks fired from the trebuches periodically crashed into the towers and battlements. The Warden’s numbers were certainly being whittled away, but the Inquisition needed to make a more focused attack to get through.

Trevelyan and the others navigated around the rubble and made quick work of the demons and Wardens. Trevelyan and Iron Bull charged the largest enemies, Marnie and Cole tackled the lesser demons and enemy archers. Sera stayed back, loosing arrows at anyone who slipped through. Solas and Dorian cast spells both offensive and defensive for their comrades, standing on either side of Gale, who conjured healing spells to mend injuries and drive the demons back. Any fallen Wardens were resurrected for a short time before expiring for good.

Once the demon army on the battlements had been thinned out, Trevelyan found Hawke in the middle of a battle against a Warden and a kneeling pride demon.

“I thought your men could use some help up here,” Hawke said, driving a killing blow across the Warden’s chest.

“Resistance is heavier than we’d hoped,” Trevelyan said. “We need to get to the center of the fortress.”

“I’ll see if I can get their attention,” Hawke sprinted ahead of them down the length of the battlements.

“We must hurry!” Solas warned. “Our forces cannot stand against the demons for long!”

Hawke and Stroud did a fine job distracting the Wardens and demons, diverting their attention from the pathway as the Inquisition slipped by. Once the Inquisitor reached the gateway to the main courtyard, Hawke and Stroud broke free to join them once more.

“I stopped as many of them as I could,” he said breathlessly. “Our forces are taking heavy losses against the demons, but we will hold, Inquisitor.”

Trevelyan nodded then pushed the door open.

The main courtyard almost looked like a picture of serenity compared to the chaos of the rest of the fortress. A group of Warden mages were gathered in a loose circle around a Rift. Nearby, a group of Warden soldiers stood together, watching the scene warily. On an elevated platform that ran along the far side of the tower, Warden-Commander Clarel and Lord Erimond watched over the ritual. Clarel paced back and forth.

“Wardens,” she called over the group. “We are betrayed by the very world we have sworn to protect.”

Erimond stepped in front of her, stopping her in her path.

“The Inquisition is inside, Clarel. We have no time to stand in ceremony!”

Clarel gave him a disapproving look and shook her head. “These men and women are giving their lives, magister. That might mean little in Tevinter, but for the Wardens, it is a sacred duty.”

The two stared at each other, their stony silence accompanied by the sounds of battle below. Another man joins them—an elder Warden. Clarel looked at the man with a sympathetic, almost sorrowful expression.

“It has been many long years, my friend,” she greeted him.

The man knelt, holding a fist over his heart in a reverent salute. “Too many, Clarel. If my sword arm can no longer serve the Wardens, then my blood will have to do.”

He stood, and Clarel circled to stand behind him, a blade already in her hand. She held the dagger under his chin, her expression unwavering. For whatever relation she had with the man, her next actions would torment her.

“It will.”

She sliced his throat with a grimace, and the man fell forward, blood spewing from the wound.

Trevelyan and the others stepped forward. Erimond sneered.

“Stop them!” he snapped to the unoccupied Wardens. “We must complete the ritual.”

Trevelyan signaled for his companions to hold their ground and their weapons for the time being. They all obeyed, still watching the opposition carefully, as the Inquisitor stepped farther into the courtyard.

“Clarel!” he yelled. “If you complete the ritual, you’re doing exactly what Erimond wants!”

“What?” Erimond prompted. “Fighting the Blight? Keeping the world safe from darkspawn? Who wouldn’t want that?”

Clarel raised an eyebrow to the Inquisitor. At least she didn’t seem as zealous as Erimond at this point. He might be able to appeal to her.

“And yes, the ritual requires blood sacrifice,” Erimond allowed. “Hate me for that if you must, but do not hate the Wardens for doing their duty.”

“We make the sacrifices no one else will,” Clarel added. “Our warriors die proudly for a world that will never thank them.”

Stroud stepped forward. “And then your Tevinter ally binds the mages to Corypheus!”

Clarel’s eyes widened. “Corypheus? But... he’s dead.”

“These people will say anything to shake your confidence, Clarel.” Erimond leans closer to her.

Clarel deliberated the two accounts, dragging one hand down her face before finally giving in. At this point, they’d come too far to give it all up. “Bring it through.”

Erimond smirked.

Below, the Warden mages began channeling green magic into the Rift. Trevelyan, Hawke, and Stroud stepped forward, as did the group of idling Wardens.

“Please,” Hawke besought them. “I have seen more than my share of blood magic. It is never worth the cost!”

The Rift crackled and hissed like a pot boiling over. The shadow of doubt returned to Clarel’s face, but Erimond interjected before she had time to speak.

“Be ready with the ritual, Clarel. The demon is truly worthy of your strength.”

“Listen to me!” Trevelyan barked. “I have no quarrel with the Wardens! I have spared those I could. I don’t want to kill you, but you’re being used. And some of you know it, don’t you?

One Warden speaks up. “The mages who’ve done the ritual? They’re not right. they were my friends, but now they’re like puppets on a string—”

“You cannot let fear sway your mind, Warden Chernoff!” Clarel interjected.

“He’s not afraid,” Hawke said. “You are. You’re afraid that you ordered all these brave men and women to die for nothing.”

“I honor your bravery,” Stroud said. “My brothers and sisters. But this is not the way. You have been tricked.”

The Wardens looked back at Clarel. Clarel looked at Erimond. She hadn’t noticed Erimond draw his staff.

“Clarel, we have come so far,” he said. “You’re the only one who can do this.”

Clarel gives him a wary look. Was this a threat? “Perhaps we could test the truth of these charges, to avoid more bloodshed.”

Erimond sneered again. “Or perhaps I should bring in a more reliable ally.”

He turned, knocked his staff on the ground. He yelled over the entire courtyard.

“My master thought you might come here, Inquisitor! He sent me this to welcome you!”

A high-pitched, feral growl echoes from the heavens. Marnie looked up. Corypheus’s black dragon soared over the fortress. The dragon swooped low over the courtyard, breathing writhing red. It wasn’t fire, it was more like a mist, or a magic.

The sight of the dragon was enough to make Clarel realize the truth in the Inquisitor’s accusations. Why else would Erimond have a dragon? What other master could Erimond serve besides Corypheus? The dragon landed on a tower in front of them and flexed her wings with a low growl that rumbled through the stones of the fortress. Clarel looked between the dragon and her dead friend then finally to Erimond. She raised her staff, conjuring a bolt of lightening that sent Erimond sprawling forward on the ground. Clarel summoned more lightening that crackled at the tip of her staff. Erimond raised a hand to caution her.

“Clarel, wait...” his voice trembled.

Clarel stared him down. Then, before she lost her chance, she turned and launched the bolt of lightening towards the dragon. The impact was comparative to a small stone; it annoyed the dragon more than anything. The dragon hissed at Clarel; its breath was a red magic that writhed like flame and smoke. Clarel was thrown back by the force of the blow. The dragon leapt into the sky and circled overhead. Clarel recovered and got to her feet. The courtyard was now in complete chaos; demons had come through the Rift, but luckily, most of the Wardens were already fighting alongside the Inquisition.

“Help the Inquisitor!” Clarel commands, then she disappears after Erimond. She wouldn’t let him get away with this, and his death would not be an act of mercy. She would see to that.

The Inquisition focused their efforts on a large pride demon that had come through; the Wardens handled a few lesser demons. With a concentrated effort from each of them, they made quick work of the demons. When the pride demon finally expired, Trevelyan led the others through the far exit into a new part of the fortress. They needed to find Clarel and ensure Erimond didn’t get away again.

“Go higher,” Cole said whenever they reached multiple paths.

Trevelyan did as Cole said. There were a few straggling demons on the stairs and battlements, but they were easy to deal with. When they were light enough, Iron Bull just grabbed them and threw them over the side of the wall. The dragon trailed after them the entire way, though whether she was tracking their progress or waiting to attack, nobody yet knew. Trevelyan’s anxiety raised as they climbed. The fortress was mostly protected by railings and walls, so Trevelyan had been able to repress his fear of heights up until now, but now that they were getting so high with the dragon right behind them, the fear began to stick to his mind.

“We’re okay.”

He heard Cole’s voice as if the spirit was speaking directly in his ear, but when he looked, no one else seemed to react. Cole gave Trevelyan a reassuring look. Gale trotted forward to walk between Trevelyan and the edge.

They found Clarel and Erimond at the very top of the fortress, destroying each other while the fruits of their efforts slowly burned and bled out beneath them. Neither of them would win this, no matter who survived and who didn’t. Erimond cast a spell of lightening, but Clarel didn’t even flinch as it harmlessly grazed the barrier she’d conjured around herself. Clarel stalked toward him, absolutely livid.

“You!” she growled. “You’ve destroyed the Grey Wardens!”

She cornered him against the open edge of the platform, casting lightening to push him farther and farther back. Erimond fell flat on his back. Clarel walked around him to stand between him and the edge of the platform. Erimond laughed weakly.

“You did that to yourself, you stupid bitch,” he placed a hand on his side and struggled to stand. “All I did was dangle a little power before you eyes, and you couldn’t wait to get your hands bloody.”

Clarel shook her head, conjured lightening with her staff again. The blow sent him sliding several yards backwards. Erimond was now curled up on his side to protect himself. His skin and clothes were smoking. Clarel stalked closer to him, clutching her staff in one hand. She was going to kill him. She was going to end him, but first she was going to make sure he felt as broken and miserable as she.

Erimond still had the gall to speak. “You could have served a new god.”

“I will never serve the Blight!” Clarel denied.

That’s how the Inquisition found them. Just in time to take in the scene before the dragon landed right behind Clarel. The dragon snapped down on Clarel and flew high above while the others looked on in horror. The dragon landed on the tower behind them, shook her head, and flung Clarel onto the stone behind the Inquisitor. Miraculously, Clarel was still alive—mauled, but alive. Though with her injuries, she probably had minutes left.

The dragon slithered down from its perch onto the platform, pushing Trevelyan and the others back, back towards the broken edge of the platform. Trevelyan’s stomach clenched at the idea of falling. They had to fight their way back inside where it was safe. Clarel weakly crawled after them, reciting her vow.

“In war, victory....”

The dragon was now indifferent to Clarel. Perfect. She only had one chance at this. She turned onto her back as the dragon began to overtake her.

“In peace, vigilance....”

Clarel raised her hand, conjuring a lightening spell. She wouldn’t miss again. She just had to wait, just a moment. She couldn’t survive this, but she could spend her last dying breath saving another, saving the right party, and that was enough for her. It had to be.

Trevelyan didn’t dare look at the edge behind them. They were running out of places to go! And they were so high up that even the idea of looking over the edge made Trevelyan nauseous. His ears began to ring, loudly enough the he could barely hear the others as they asked him what they were supposed to do. He stared ahead, trying to find something to ground him. The tower, the dragon, Marnie—Marnie?!

The Arisen wasn’t moving back with the others, she was frozen in place, staring straight up at the dragon as if in a trance. The two of them were only feet away from each other now.

“What is she doing?!” Trevelyan snapped. “Marnie, get back!”

The dragon arched its neck to look down at Marnie. The dragon’s jaw moved as it spoke in a near-silent, unintelligible rumble. Marnie wasn’t frozen because she was afraid, she was... captivated. For a moment, it looked like Marnie was going to talk back to the dragon. Gale broke away from the group and grabbed Marnie’s arm, pulling her back just before the dragon coiled to strike. Just as the dragon prepared to lunge at the group, Clarel released the spell, sending bolts of electricity surging through the dragon’s underbelly. The dragon fell sideways and slid forward over the edge of the tower, writhing and shrieking. The others ducked, dodging flailing limbs and dragging wings as the dragon passed over them, over the edge of the platform, and recovered just in time to sail unsteadily over the fortress. Trevelyan watched her for a moment before his attention was captured by the ground far below them. Just as he feared, the sight petrified the Inquisitor, as heights always had.

The stone beneath them trembled and broke apart. The ground was crumbling, the abyss below chasing them as they all scrambled backwards and began running towards the tower. Trevelyan could only crawl backwards. He couldn’t feel his feet, he could only stare in terror at the edge. Move! He had to move! The sight of Stroud dangling over the edge finally snapped Trevelyan out of his catatonic state. Trevelyan shot forward—he wasn’t sure where the sudden coordination or feeling in his limbs came from, but he wouldn’t take it for granted. He pulled Stroud back up onto solid ground, and they both ran. They weren’t far behind the others, they weren’t far from the stable tower, they just had to last a few more moments!

The ground beneath Trevelyan’s feet began to sink, and he had a dreadful feeling it wasn’t his imagination this time. The ground beneath their feet caved, and they were falling alongside dust and rubble. Trevelyan was staring in the face of his worst fear. No, worse—he was living it. He had to act now. He barely had the time or the wherewithal to thrust his hand forward and open a Rift.

The Rift swallowed them up, and they could feel the change as they transitioned from standing in the real world and falling through the Fade. Trevelyan stared down at the ground, dreading the fatal impact, but seconds before he hit the ground, he began to float upwards again and flipped to fall towards a new surface, much more slowly this time. He hovered a couple inches above the ground until he reached out. It was as if the gravitational pull in this world, whatever it was, waited for Trevelyan’s permission to take him. Trevelyan touched the ground with a timid finger. Then he fell like a dead weight. Trevelyan landed flat on his back on the ground with a grunt.

Trevelyan shook himself off and stood, taking in their new surroundings. The ground they stood on was solid rock, but there was something off about it. Pillars, spikes, and walls of stone characterized the terrain around and before them, creating a labyrinth of highs and lows between them and a distant but unmistakable Rift. Neither moon nor sun shone above them, but the sky was a dim, even plain of green. A cold, gentle breeze carried dust and ash overhead. Everything was bathed in green light, painting everything in a nauseatingly bleak tint. Being there felt like being underwater and atop the highest, driest peak. The air was humidly sticky yet simultaneously abrasive, like pins and needles in a numb limb. The air was stifling, yet Trevelyan’s lungs felt lighter than air.

This place wasn’t right. And they weren’t supposed to be here.

“Where are we?” Stroud asked. He was standing on a pillar of stone perpendicular to the ground.

“We were falling,” Hawke spoke. He stood almost completely upside down on the underside of another curving pillar. “Is this... are we dead? If this is the afterlife, the Chantry owes me an apology. This looks nothing like the Maker’s bosom.”

Solas stared into the distance at a Rift interrupting the misty green sky.

“No...” he breathed. “This is the Fade.”


	12. In the Fade

Trevelyan looked around once more, and the world seemed familiar if even more unsettling. How had they entered the Fade?

“The Inquisitor opened a Rift, we came through... and survived,” Solas was breath-taken. “I never thought I would ever find myself here physically. Look... the Black City, almost close enough to touch.”

“This must be very exciting for you, Solas,” Trevelyan’s voice was strained. “Any advice you have about what’s going on would be wonderful.”

He heard Marnie scoff behind him. He turned to give her an icy stare. Of all people, he expected her to take this more seriously, given the circumstances. Perhaps living with Gale made her impartial to the Fade and all its creatures. And speaking of Gale, Trevelyan didn’t see him standing with or around Marnie.

“Where’s Gale?” Trevelyan asked.

“The main pawn can’t be in the Rift at the same time as their Arisen,” Marnie replied, re-lighting her lantern. “They remain outside to ground the Arisen to their home world. Gale’s probably still at Adamant.”

“Of course,” Solas nodded. “I’d forgotten an Arisen would regularly traverse the Fade.”

“As if you knew.”

“You’ve been here before as well?” Hawke asked.

“In Gransys, we call it the Rift,” Marnie looked ahead at the Black City. “And I can see why. Your Fade and my Rift seem two different worlds entirely. If it weren’t for Gale’s absence, I wouldn’t believe they were one and the same....”

Dorian shared a look with Trevelyan. “The first time I entered the Fade, it looked like a lovely castle filled with gold and silks. I met a marvelous desire demon, as I recall. We chatted and ate grapes before he attempted to possess me.”

“It’s not how I remember the Fade, either,” Hawke said, stepping onto the ground proper with the rest of them. “Perhaps it’s because we’re here physically, instead of just dreaming.”

“I enter the Fade physically all the time,” Marnie disagreed. “’Tis nothing like this. There’s aught here.”

The Inquisitor’s remaining companions were not taking things nearly as well. Iron Bull didn’t say anything, but the others could tell by his silence and the rigid, attentive way he stood that he was not happy to be here. Sera paced in a random pattern nearby, not daring to stray too far from the group. Cole began to wring his hands in anguish.

“No,” he stuttered, shuffling backwards and flailing his arms. “No, no, no, no, no. I can’t.... Why can’t I...? I can’t be here! Not like this! Not like me!”

Cole crouched low, covered his head with his arms, closed his eyes, braced against all sensation. He tried to ground himself, but it was impossible here. There was nothing real here, nothing to keep him here and safe and like himself. He could hear the others talking, but their voices sounded farther and farther away. He was fading away? But how?! The Arisen was with him—he needed to stay with them, but he couldn’t control himself here. He wasn’t in control, he....

“Cole.” Marnie crouched by him and took his shoulders. Cole clung to her and released a sigh. Solas stood on Cole’s other side.

“Cole,” he said. “Focus on my voice.”

Cole swallowed and nodded. He knew this. “Right.” He already felt much better. Much more like himself. He stood again. “This place is wrong. I made myself forget when I made myself real. But I know it wasn’t like this.”

Hawke looked at the Inquisitor. “The stories say you walked out of the Fade at Haven. Was it like this?”

“I don’t know,” Trevelyan admitted. “I still can’t remember what happened the last time I did this.”

“Well, whatever happened at Haven, we can’t assume we’re safe now. That huge demon was right on the other side of that Rift Erimond was using, and there could be others.”

Sera cussed at the thought. Things weren’t right in the Fade. She needed things to be normal if she was going to keep her wits about her. For now, cussing would just have to do.

“What she said,” Iron Bull piped in. “This is shitty. I’ll fight whatever you give me, boss, but nobody said nothing about getting dragged through the ass-end of demon town.”

Stroud considered the Rift in the distance again. “In our world, the Rift the demons came though was nearby, in the main hall. We can escape the same way.”

The Inquisitor looked into the distance. “It beats waiting around for demons to find us. Let’s go.”

The path ahead of them was clear, for now. Even so, they moved slowly, turning their heads at each strange sound the Fade made around them. There was no beaten trail to follow, but the terrain was relatively even and free of all brush and obstruction, so they just continued forward. Along the way, they found piles of skulls, waist-high pillars, candles dripping wax in frozen cascades. Why were they there? Were they always there or did someone put them there?

“’Hey, chief, let’s join the Inquisition!’” Iron Bull mocked. “’Good fights for a good cause!’ I don’t know Krem, I hear there are demons. ‘Ah, don’t worry about the demons, chief! I’m sure we won’t see many!’ Can’t believe I listened to that asshole! Everyone. If I get possessed, feint on my blind side, then go low. Cullen says I leave myself open.”

“Shite,” Sera cussed. “Piss. Stupid. I hate this!”

Dorian appraised a pile of skulls alongside the path. “My visits to the Fade are normally more pleasant. I don’t usually wake up feeling the need to bathe. Usually. Sometimes. Well, never mind that.”

“This is fascinating!” Solas was grinning from ear to ear. “It is not the area I would have chosen, of course. But to physically walk within the Fade...”

He gave a wistful sigh.

“Oh yeah,” Iron Bull retorted. “This must be a dream come true for your crazy ass.”

“Yes,” Solas wasn’t fazed. “Literally.”

“Solas,” the Inquisitor started. “You’re the expert on this place. Anything helpful?”

“The Fade is shaped by intent and emotion, Inquisitor. Remain focused, and it will lead you where you wish to go. The demon that controls this area is extremely powerful. Some variety of fear, I would guess. I suggest you remain wary of its manipulations and prepare for what is certain to be a fascinating experience.”

Trevelyan did his best. He was about to ask Marnie the same thing, but found her occupied with Cole once again.

“Wrong,” Cole was saying. “Wrong, wrong, wrong, wringing me out, wrought right and rigid. Can’t relax, can’t release....”

He tensed when Marnie put an arm around his shoulder, but eased almost immediately. He forced his lungs to exhale once more. It was a little easier than normal, but even that fact made fresh panic bloom in his chest. It didn’t feel good to feel good here in the Fade.

“It’s alright, Cole,” Trevelyan said. “We’ll get you out of here soon.”

“Thank you,” Cole sighed. “It should be like home. It’s not. This isn’t me. Not this part.”

“Just keep your focus,” Marnie ordered. “Stay close to me.”

Finally, Cole stood up a little straighter, like he was no longer afraid of being seen. “Yes, Arisen.”

He could focus on her. She’d be hard to ignore. If he wandered, she’d be easy to come back to. They all would be.

“Marnie,” Trevelyan prompted. “What are your thoughts?”

“We should keep moving,” she advised. She really had no expertise in a Fade like this one, and as such had little to add to what Solas, Stroud, and Hawke already said. “Gale’s probably worried sick now.”

“He is, but he’s safe,” Cole said. “The soldiers found him and took him to Cullen.”

“Truly?” Marnie gave a sigh of relief. How lucky she was that people on the mainland didn’t think to treat him differently because he was a pawn.

Just ahead of them, a woman stood in Divine’s robes. She appeared to be waiting for them.

“By the maker,” Stroud breathed. “Could it be?”

The woman looked among the group and spoke. “I greet you, Warden. And you, Champion.”

The Inquisitor stared at the woman, wide-eyed.

“Divine Justinia.”

She blinked and gave him a strange half-smile. She blinked again. Something about her mannerisms was... off. Like she was very far away in her mind. Trevelyan hadn’t known the Divine very well, so he tried to shake the unease.

“From the little I remember of what happened at Haven, I thought you were dead,” he told her.

“I fear the Divine is indeed dead,” Stroud interjected. “It is likely we face a spirit... or a demon.”

“You think my survival impossible, yet here you stand alive in the Fade yourselves,” the woman—be she Divine or ghost—replied. “In truth, proving my existence either way would require time we do not have.”

“Surely you can understand our concerns and explain what you are,” Hawke said.

“I am here to help you,” the Divine replied. “You do not remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Inquisitor.”

“I don’t,” Trevelyan admitted.

“The memories you have lost were taken from you by the demon that serves Corypheus,” the Divine explained. “It is the Nightmare you fought upon waking. It feeds off memories of fear and darkness, growing fat upon the terror. The false Calling that terrified the Wardens into making such grave mistakes? Its work.”

“I would gladly avenge the insult this Nightmare dealt my brethren,” Stroud interjected.

“You will have your chance, brave Warden,” the Divine assured him. “This place of darkness is its lair.”

“Can you help us get to the Rift?” Trevelyan asked.

“That is why I found you,” the Divine said. “When you entered the Fade at Haven, the demon took a part of you. Before you do anything else, you must recover it. These are your memories, Inquisitor.”

She extended her arm to indicate the path before them. Three demons appeared in the path, guarding a curious glow by the ground. From the memory, the others could hear very faint shouting. Trevelyan could feel it pulling him, and the Anchor in his hand was almost compelled towards it. Trevelyan drew his sword, and they moved in.

With such a large group, the fight was more of a warm-up than a battle. Even in the Fade, where the demons had an edge. When the demons were defeated, they disappeared. Whether the Inquisition had succeeded in killing them or if they simply moved to another part of the Fade, no one was sure. Trevelyan put his hand by the glowing point. Voices, once distant but now overwhelming, reached them with a flash of brilliant light. Each person experienced the memory as if it was a vision where they were nothing but an impartial, powerless third party.

In this memory, Divine Justinia was suspended in the air by a crimson binding spell holding her in place. Warden mages maintained the spell from the ground. Corypheus, a formidable, towering figure, loomed in front of the Divine.

“Now is the hour of our victory,” Corypheus said, his voice echoing through the room.

“Why are you doing this?” Justinia demanded. “You, of all people!”

“Keep the sacrifice still,” Corypheus ordered.

He raised his hand to reveal an orb that fit in the palm of his hand. The orb burst into glowing green light. Corypheus held the orb forward, and Justinia cried for help. The green light began to consume her, an exchange of power. Not a moment later, Trevelyan barged through the doors.

“What’s going on here?!” he shouted.

Justinia and Corypheus turned. While Corypheus’s attention was diverted, Justinia thrashed an arm out and managed to knock the orb out of his hand. It rolled towards Trevelyan, who dove to catch it. Whatever the artifact was, it looked important and needed to be kept safe. Little did Trevelyan know, that orb would curse him with the Anchor on his hand. As soon as he touched the orbit, pain shot up his arm as his palm split open to accommodate the power fusing with his hand.

Corypheus stared at the future Inquisitor in disbelief and rage. He moved towards Trevelyan, but before he reached him, the orb exploded. Corypheus was sent flying backwards from the blast.

That was the last thing the Inquisition saw before the vision faded. As Trevelyan and the others recovered, the Divine only watched.

“So,” Stroud looked at Trevelyan. “Your mark did not come from Andraste. It came from the orb Corypheus used in his ritual.”

Trevelyan didn’t say anything. The Divine explained.

“Corypheus intended to rip open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and throw open the doors of the Black City, not for the Old Gods, but for himself. When you disrupted his plan, the orb bestowed the Anchor upon you instead.”

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Trevelyan sighed. True, the concept had been a bit to fantastical for Trevelyan to fully believe, but with so many people revering him based on that perception, he’d almost started to buy it. However, he couldn’t help but worry. How would he be perceived now that it was proven false? What would Cassandra think?

“We should keep moving,” Marnie was already standing further along the path. She didn’t even know who Andraste was. She knew this was no time to get hung up on Trevelyan’s status as a godsend.

“Right,” Trevelyan agreed.

The Divine’s voice followed them. “You cannot escape the lair of the Nightmare until you regain all that it took from you. You have recovered some of yourself already, but now it knows you are here. You must make haste. I will prepare the way ahead.”

When Trevelyan looked over his shoulder again, the Divine had disappeared. Stroud looked at Hawke.

“Something troubles you, Hawke.”

“Those were Grey Wardens holding the Divine in that vision,” Hawke growled. “Their actions led to her death.”

“I assume he had taken their minds,” Stroud defended the Wardens. “As you have seen him do before. Come, we can argue after we escape this dark place.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Hawke agreed tersely.

“Was that really the Divine?” Trevelyan turned to Solas.

“We have survived the Fade physically,” Solas mused. “Perhaps she did as well. Or, if it is a spirit that identifies so strongly with Justinia that it believes it is her, how can we say it is not?”

A thought tugged at Marnie—a thought that troubled her. However, she managed to repress it before Cole got a good hold of it. Like them. Who were they?

“She seems interested in helping us,” Stroud said. “That much is clear.”

“That’s great and all,” Iron Bull interrupted. “But the Nightmare is the thing currently scaring the shit outta me.”

“It’s nothing like me,” Cole murmured. “I make people forget to help them. It eats their fears. I don’t know if I could do that, but I don’t. I don’t want to. That’s not me.”

“Peace, Cole,” Solas calmed him. “None of us mistake you for the Nightmare. It is a fear demon, as I suspected. Likely drawing on terrors related to the Blight. Fear is a very old, very strong feeling. It predates love, pride, compassion... every emotion save perhaps desire.”

Marnie narrowed her eyes. Before anything else, pawns were able to feel fear. They could feel fear from their conception, possibly. Other emotions came later, if and when they attained a little life through their Arisen’s will and experiences. Pawns and demons—they were so similar.

The Fade around them began to soften, the air turning more grayish than green. A dense fog materialized a few yards away on all sides of them, but remained at that distance as they moved forward. Marnie watched it reproachfully. Iron Bull glanced at her, following her gaze into the mist. It moved. Something was moving in the fog.

“Hold it,” Trevelyan stiffened, hand on the hilt of his sword. There was no such thing as too careful in their situation. The movement in the mist solidified into human figures. What were they? Was this another of the Nightmare’s tactics? Sera drew her bow and nocked an arrow.

However, as the figures emerged from the fog, they simply passed by the group indifferently. Occasionally some of them spared a glance at Marnie and maybe stood around for a moment before heading on their way again.

“’Tis alright,” Marnie said. “They’re pawns. Relax.”

“Can they see us?” Trevelyan asked. He didn’t know how else to justify the lack of reaction the pawns were showing to their presence.

“Of course. They don’t much care is all.”

“Pawns?” Hawke questioned, watching a remarkably tall pawn with a sword and shield on his back saunter past. He remembered what Varric had told him about the Arisen’s situation. “Like Gale.”

The pawns came in all forms. They were all dressed in full armor and carrying weapons of their, (or their master’s), choice. Some looked human, whilst others shared characteristics of elves or dwarves. Their height, weight, skin tone, and facial features all varied. Were it not for the scars on their hands, it’d be difficult to tell they were all one people. Their mannerisms were also identical. Mechanical, listless, yet effortless in their motions. They were apt to unsettle their bystanders.

“Do they always stare at you like that?” Iron Bull asked.

“You get used to it,” Marnie replied, not letting her attention stray from the path. Cole offered his hand to help her down an uneven decline.

“Creepy,” Sera dismissed, repressing a shudder as a woman’s eyes met hers. Empty. One blind. Empty.

“Intriguing,” Dorian murmured.

Solas stayed very quiet and still so he wouldn’t disrupt the pawns’ natural behavior. He loved seeing a group of them in their natural habitat. Or at least, as natural as it could be, he supposed.

“Look at how they wander here seemingly from nothing and beyond, uncaring of where they are,” Solas could only speak in a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like them. Have pawns populated this part of the Fade before?”

“Hey,” Marnie turned to one of the pawns, a woman with amber skin and a longbow tied over her shoulder. The pawn stopped and turned to Marnie. “How’d you get here?”

“We were following you, Arisen,” the pawn replied. Her words were enunciated perfectly, her accent impeccable, but her tone was lifeless.

“My main pawn and I have been on the mainland for weeks and we’ve never seen any pawns,” Marnie pressed. “Did you come here when I just entered the Rift?”

“Yes. We assumed you entered the Rift because you needed support.”

Marnie looked ahead and sighed. A part of her felt bad for stopping the pawn just to talk.

“Why don’t you stay with us for a while?” she suggested.

“Of course,” the pawn livened up immediately. She almost seemed to glow as she raised her right hand to show the pawn scar on her palm. “I am honored to travel with you.”

Marnie trailed after the others. “Do you have a name?”

“Lavender.”

Cole waved at the pawn. “Hello.”

Lavender blinked at him, then gave Marnie a questioning look. Cole was still watching the other pawns, his eyes darting from one pawn to another as he took in little bits of each of their lives.

“He last expired falling from a cliff,” Cole muttered. “Her Arisen took her to a salon and they got matching haircuts. His Arisen is a carpenter on the weekends. Her, a noble. Fine dresses never suit the battlefield—”

“Cole,” Marnie admonished, her tone light to show he wasn’t being scolded. “Shh.”

Cole watched the pawns in fascination. He’d never seen any besides Gale, and now they were all around him and so easy to hear. He could hear everything, not just hurts. As if they were each connected. His brothers, his sisters. He should feel at home, and he did, in a strange way, even though he was overwhelmed. The pawns didn’t seem to notice him at all, but they didn’t act like they saw each other either. It was just the Arisen for them.

Cole looked at the Arisen as if he wanted to ask her something, but he didn’t have the chance the chance. A voice, deep, guttural,belonging to that of the Nightmare, echoed through the Fade. It sounded so close that it might’ve been in their heads.

“Ah, we have a visitor,” the Nightmare purred. “Some foolish little boy comes to steal the fear I kindly lifted from his shoulders. You should have thanked me and left your fear where it lay, forgotten. You think that pain will make you strong? What fool filled your mind with such drivel? The only one who grows stronger from your fears is me. But you are a guest here in my home, so by all means, let me return what you have forgotten.”

The group turned a corner and came to a low, marshy area. An archway of stone curved overhead.

“I hear growling,” Marnie warned. Lavender drew her bow, and the others followed suit.

Something slithered down from the stone archway. Marnie faced the sound, and Sera nailed the enemy with an arrow before it had a chance to attack. The demon shrieked and reared up, its camouflage momentarily lifting so the others could get a look at it. The demon had taken the form of a giant reptile. Was that an alligator? No. As the creature stood at its full height on its hind legs, the others could see that this was no simple reptile. The creature held a crude spear in one hand and reached its free hand up to yank the arrow out of its shoulder. The wound did not bleed. The beast roared at the group, and several more creatures just like it woke and came forth from the shadows.

“What the crap is that supposed to be?!” Iron Bull demanded.

“Saurian!” Lavender shouted.

“Is that what all of us are seeing?” Solas asked.

“Yes,” Cole spoke for the others, looking at the strange monsters warily.

One saurian raised its spear to strike at the Inquisitor. Trevelyan dodged the blow and drew his sword. Sera shot at the beast, but her arrows deflected off the scaly hide. By that point, Marnie was on the move, darting close behind the saurian to slash its tail at the base. The saurian stumbled forward and spun, swinging its spear and missing Marnie by an inch.

“Strike at their tails!” Lavender shouted to the others. “Sever the tail, and they’re defenseless.”

Marnie circled around the saurian for another pass at the tail, but the saurian followed her movements. It made sure she didn’t get the chance to get behind it again. Marnie looked past the saurian at Trevelyan, a little annoyed. Trevelyan realized what she was doing and leaped forward. He drove his sword into the gash Marnie had already created, pinning it to the ground. The saurian squealed and spun away, tearing off its own tail in the process. Immediately, its scales seemed to lose their luster. The saurian rolled on the ground, spreading wine-red blood on the stone.

“Distract them!” Hawke commanded. “If you don’t have a blade in your hands, you can at least create an avenue for those who do.”

And then the battle truly began. Sera and Lavender stood on opposite sides of the pathway, loosing arrows into the fray both to distract the tailed saurian and to finish those without tails. Their arrows sank into the now-soft flesh of the tailless saurian like a hot knife through butter. Dorian and Solas did the same as the archers, casting spells to help distract and taking the opportunity to send a projectile of ice or fire to aid where they could.

The rest of them were stuck in the middle of it, and did their very best to disarm and kill the saurian before they could get overwhelmed. The saurian were fast when they wanted to be, they were sometimes hard to see, and their spears gave them a much farther reach, but they were clumsy with a broad blind spot.

Marnie was on a limp saurian’s back, ensuring it was fully dead before moving onto another one. Little was she aware of another saurian, cloaked in its bizarre camouflage, creeping up behind her, spear in hand. By the time anyone noticed it, it was already too late.

“Arisen!” Lavender shouted.

Marnie spun on her heel. The saurian was already upon her; she didn’t have time to move! She braced for the impact, but just before the saurian’s spear could strike her, someone else appeared in front of her. Marnie felt her stomach sink in an unpleasant mix of dread and anger for whoever took the hit for her.

Cole cried out as the saurian’s spear slashed across his chest, digging through his armor. Blood—too much blood—splashed on the ground. Cole’s knees buckled. Marnie caught him from behind and held him up. For a moment, she forgot about the saurian and the others. All she could think about was Cole’s sickly pale, dazed face. The gash, the blood.

If he died for her, she’d never forgive herself.

“Cole!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank the copious amounts of children’s books I’ve been reading for my masterfully crafted cliffhanger. I'm planning on one more chapter in the Fade to finish up the Here Lies the Abyss questline. After that, we can get into the Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts arc--which is always my favorite when I daydream about it, but we'll see how I feel actually writing it all.


	13. Death from Above

Chapter 13: Death from Above

“Cole!”

Iron Bull tackled the saurian before it had a chance to strike again. He severed the tail and cut off the saurian’s head in two clean, powerful blows. Trevelyan and Solas rushed to Marnie and Cole. Cole fumbled with the wound, his hands slipping in the blood. He felt Marnie’s fingers tug gently through his hair. She knelt by his head, out of the way of Solas as he stood on Cole’s other side to assess the damage. Trevelyan crouched by Marnie and took one of Cole’s blood-slick hands in an iron grip.

“Will I die?” Cole asked. He didn’t sound very afraid. To die would be an awful adventure.

“Just hold on, Cole,” Trevelyan said. “We’ll set you right again. Solas is already healing you.”

Cole winced and shifted uncomfortably as the pain started to really set in. A powerful, throbbing pain radiated from the wound through his whole torso. The others had finished off the last saurian by now and were left anxiously supervising the scene before them. Only Lavender was calm. She seemed unaffected by the whole ordeal.

“How’re you doing, kid?” Iron Bull asked. “You’re looking awfully pale.”

“There’s blood,” Cole obviously wasn’t speaking for himself. “He’s losing too much blood. I’m going to lose another one, flickering, fluttering, fading away...”

“Hey. Let’s not focus on me here. I’m not the one with a hole in my chest.”

“The Arisen had...” Cole trailed off and swallowed against a rancid taste of bile and blood rising in his throat. Marnie shushed him again. He stared at her.

“Solas,” Trevelyan’s voice was strained.

Solas knelt and placed his hand near the wound, letting a faint glow graze over the blood. Cole squirmed and clenched his teeth. The light began to dissipate.

“Is that the best you can do?” Marnie demanded.

“Well, I’m sorry it’s not the anodyne you’re accustomed to, Arisen!” Solas snapped.

Marnie just stared at him in disbelief. Mages on the mainland were useless. If he couldn’t even heal, what merit did he have? Trevelyan was getting desperate, searching the group for anything that may be of use. Unfortunately, what few potions they’d brought had already been spent at Adamant. Marnie slammed a fist on the ground by Cole’s head. She would not let this happen.

“Heal yourself,” she ordered harshly.

Cole opened his eyes and looked at her uncertainly.

“Arisen...” Trevelyan started, but Marnie didn’t give him a chance.

“Heal yourself!” Marnie grasped the front of Cole’s jacket. “You’re of the Fade, and you’re in the Fade. Stop bleeding and fucking heal yourself.”

Cole blinked. She’d never sworn at him before. Then, without any visible effort on Cole’s part, the blood from Cole’s wound stopped. He began feeling much better, actually. Grounded, solid, more real again, yet not exactly. His chest kind of tingled, but the sensation was almost pleasant compared to what he’d been feeling a moment ago. Cole sat up, pulled the edges of his jacket back, and looked at his chest. The wound disappeared, and moments later the blood followed. Cole looked back at the Arisen. Before he could speak, she wrapped him in a tight hug, pressing her face against his shoulder.

“Thank the Maker,” she whispered. Thank the Maker it worked.

As she helped Cole to his feet, Trevelyan, Iron Bull, and Dorian moved in to fret over him in the most subtle way they could manage. Trevelyan looked for traces of the wound, Bull made sure Cole wasn’t feeling lightheaded or dizzy. Solas almost smiled. He hadn’t expected such a performance from Cole or the Arisen. The fact that the Arisen could compel Cole to draw from the Fade around him—not unlike the pawns, surely—was... interesting.

“Are you alright?” Dorian asked.

“I’m not going to die anymore,” Cole replied.

“Ah, magnificent. I knew you had it in you.” Dorian’s voice lacked the usual confidence. Cole’s brush with death had shaken all of them.

“Good. Now, what were you thinking?” the anger returned to Marnie’s voice. “You were hurt bad enough as it is—what if the saurian had struck your head instead?”

“It didn’t,” Cole replied.

“But you could’ve died,” Marnie insisted.

“So could you,” Cole returned before anyone else could try to defend him. “I let it hit me so it wouldn’t hit you. You’re the Arisen, and I have to protect you, at least until Gale’s back—”

“I’m not your Arisen!” Marnie shouted. “If I needed protection, you should’ve left it to Lavender. Don’t you understand?”

“Yes.” Cole was only saying it so she’d stop yelling at him. He didn’t know why she was so angry at him for helping. She let other pawns die for her all the time. Why was this any different?

Marnie took a step back. “We’re talking about this when we return to Skyhold.”

She nodded Trevelyan forward. The Inquisitor thought better than to waste more time arguing with her about it, so he continued to lead the group down the path. This time, Cole stayed several feet behind Marnie.

-

As the group continued to move, the voice of the Nightmare carried in the rocks and the water around them.

“Perhaps I should be afraid, facing the most powerful members of the Inquisition.”

Each of them heard something different. A taunt personally tailored to each person’s greatest fear. The Iron Bull heard threats of being possessed by demons or the Nightmare itself. The others heard Bull mutter something about “I’d like to see you try.” The Nightmare tried to entice Cole, saying they were so much alike and that the Nightmare could help Cole forget being afraid here. Cole merely shook his head and blocked out any likeness he saw or felt between him and the fear demon. Solas had a brusque conversation with the Nightmare in elvhen. For Dorian, the Nightmare mistook him for his father. Dorian refused to entertain the creature. The Nightmare told Sera that if she attacked it, it would know where she was. Sera just shook her head and cussed at the demon to get out of her head. Hawke heard that everything he’d ever done was pointless, that he couldn’t save a city or his family, and nor could he strike down a god.

“Arisen.”

Marnie raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe you’re better off without Gale here. You repress so much of yourself to ensure he won’t fail you, but once he represses you enough, you’ll be cruel to him. Though who could blame the infallible Arisen for abusing a failing pawn?”

“Stop it,” Marnie muttered. “Don’t talk about that.”

She couldn’t stand the thought. She already regretted how she treated Cole.

-

Along the way, Marnie regarded several pawns and took on another. This time, she hired a man named Tate, who carried daggers. If they ran into any more demons with the likeness of the monsters of Gransys, the pawns would come in handy. Tate and Lavender looked at each other and exchanged a couple words about the oddity of finding demons in the Rift. Otherwise, they were quiet and didn’t pay any mind to anyone.

The Fade was constantly changing, but with the Inquisitor focused solely on the Rift, they could navigate quite easily. Trevelyan didn’t stop and investigate anything; time was of the essence, and they couldn’t afford to get lost. They shouldn’t get comfortable either, for each time they did, the Nightmare deployed a new tactic.

Marnie seemed to get over her anger at Cole, which stemmed from worry for him to begin with. She slowed to fall in step next to him, and Cole took her unspoken forgiveness like a lifeline. She’d make a point for a proper apology as soon as they got out of the Fade, but her regret was too strong to leave it totally alone for so long.

“Cole, I’m s—”

Marnie stiffened as a wide shadow flew across the ground before them. She looked skyward. Were those wing beats she heard?

“What was that?” Hawke asked.

A chorus of eerie laughs echoed through the ravine. The voices sounded almost human and distinctly female. Marnie recognized that laughter.

“Are those harpies? Here?” Tate asked.

“Ready yourself, Master,” Lavender warned, drawing her bow.

From behind a pillar, a figure dropped and sailed in tight circles overhead. The creature looked to be a big bird; its wingspan had to be at least eight feet. But its topmost half resembled that of a woman. More harpies took flight from pillars and perches in the stone formations. The Inquisitor couldn’t even count their numbers as they wheeled around—there had to be at least ten of them!

Fighting demons on the ground was a cakewalk compared to this. The advantage of being in the air served the harpies immeasurably. They were almost always out of reach of any attacks not delivered by bow or staff, and even then, their wheeling, random flight patterns made them an unpredictable target. Sera climbed atop one of the pillars bordering the path and fired arrow after arrow at the swarm of demons, cursing each time she missed. Solas and Dorian fired blasts of energy at the harpies. The spells were drawn to the demons and followed the harpies flawlessly until they struck, but even so, the spells had little effect.

Dorian struck with fire, and the harpy burst into flame and spiraled to the ground with a shriek.

“That’s one way to do it,” he noted as Hawke and Trevelyan rushed towards the fallen harpy to kill it before it recovered. They continued in this fashion to defeat the rest of the harpies.

“Watch out!” Marnie warned as one of the harpies swooped low through the group. The harpy lanced its talons into Iron Bull’s shoulders and snapped at his neck. Iron Bull swung his greatsword in a wide arc, catching the harpy by its flailing wings and slamming it into the ground. From there, he drove the tip of the blade through the harpy’s head with a shudder. Marnie ran up beside him.

“Did it bite you?” she demanded.

“No, we’re good,” Iron Bull replied, rubbing his neck and shoulder to check for wounds. Nothing, thankfully.

Last one. The only remaining harpy dove towards Sera, narrowly dodging the onslaught of arrows and grasping the girl’s shoulders in razor-sharp talons. Sera felt the harpy lift her off the ground and carry her higher and higher up.

“Friggin’ get off me!” Sera thrashed in the harpy’s grasp, but her desire to be dropped faltered considerably when she looked down.

“Sera!” Trevelyan shouted.

“Shoot her down,” Marnie ordered Lavender, who was already taking aim at the harpy. Marnie sheathed her daggers and bolted.

“Don’t hit Sera,” Iron Bull warned.

Sera didn’t know where to look. Up at the wretched sky? Down at the ground? The harpy wasn’t even an option. It was a hideous thing behind its seductive features. Sera kept her eyes shut as she felt the harpy continue to carry her. Then, the whistle of an arrow. The harpy stiffened with a cry as it was struck, then Sera felt the talons on her shoulders release—she was falling! What were they thinking, shooting the harpy down while they were still so high up?! Sera felt air rush past her, braced for the deadly impact. Below her, Marnie continued sprinting over the rocks, arms extended. She was almost there.

Marnie leapt to meet Sera, catching the girl securely in her arms and nearly toppling over from the sudden weight. Marnie slowed to a stop and set Sera on her feet. Sera pushed her away and patted down her arms and torso, making sure nothing was displaced or lost in the ordeal.

“Are you alright?” Marnie fretted. “Are you hurt? Sera.”

“Stop fussing! I’m fine!” Sera hugged herself for a moment and sighed. “Thanks, yeah?”

“Sera!” Trevelyan called. After seeing she wasn’t hurt, Trevelyan gave a sigh of relief. “It just carried you off, didn’t it? I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You’re lucky it was only her,” Marnie said. “Some harpies can carry someone as big as Cullen.”

“So these are more of your monsters?” Solas asked.

“Yes. These are my monsters.”

“Well your monsters can bite it,” Sera said, and nobody blamed her.

“I don’t understand why we’re all seeing the same thing,” Solas shook his head. “Usually fear demons take form according to the individual mind. I thought we’d be seeing spiders, skeletons... things frightening yet known. I wonder why the Nightmare has chosen your mind specifically to draw from.”

“It’s easy to hear her,” Cole replied. “Not loud, but not subtle either. It feels her here and takes what it wants.”

“Great,” Iron Bull grumbled. “Hey, Marnie, do me a favor and don’t think about anything that scares you.”

“What, like being alone?” Marnie proposed. “Outliving my loved ones? Watching my main pawn grow up to be a failure?”

“Yeah. Just keep thinking about shit like that, and we should be good.”

“Thanks,” Marnie said. “Ass.”

-

They fought their way through little fears and found the Divine once again waiting for them in the path.

“The Nightmare is closer now,” she warned. “It knows you seek escape. With each moment, it grows stronger.”

“What is the Nightmare, exactly?” Trevelyan asked. “Solas says it’s some kind of fear demon.”

“It is not simply fear,” the Divine replied. “It is the terror you cannot remember, the horror your mind erases to protect you. When old memories no longer make the veteran’s hand’s tremble, it is because the Nightmare has taken them. Most people avoid their fears. It is simple for the demon to steal the darkest fragments. They forget, and it feeds. Corypheus has helped it grow monstrous.”

“It makes people forget the worst parts of their fears,” Trevelyan reiterated. “It almost sounds like the Nightmare is helping people, or that it could.”

“Perhaps it was, once,” the Divine allowed. “But now it helps no one but Corypheus. By his hand, it creates more fear and grows even stronger. In any case, robbing people of their fears is never a kindness. At best, it is a mistake born of compassion. Without fear and pain and failure, we cannot learn, and we cannot grow. As you cannot grow until you recover all that was taken from you.”

The Inquisitor looked ahead, where another glowing point was guarded by three demons.

“Let’s go,” Trevelyan said to the others.

However, once they stepped forward, the three demons began to change form. The three of them conjoined, enveloped by green light. Their silhouettes began to merge and transmogrify, growing in size and shifting shape until they were completely unrecognizable. When the light faded and its new form was revealed in its entirety, they saw a completely new monster. The creature now looked like a giant lion with a goat perched on its back and a large, writhing snake for a tail.

Trevelyan didn’t even have to ask. He and the others turned to Marnie.

“’Tis a chimera!” Lavender drew her bow.

“And what, pray tell, is that, Arisen?” Dorian asked.

Marnie gestured for Tate and Lavender to charge the chimera on their own. They complied, distracting the chimera long enough to give the Arisen a chance to tell the others what to do.

“Alright,” Marnie started. “We need to kill each head. The snake spews poison, and the goat casts spells. Don’t let it kick you, don’t let it maul you, and stay out of range of the goat’s spells—they’ll kill you instantly. I’ll target the tail first. When it reels, see if you can kill the goat’s head.”

“Lovely,” Dorian said.

They did exactly as Marnie said. Marnie scaled the goat’s leg and climbed halfway up the snake’s body to cut it in half there. While she was working on that, the others attacked the beast’s legs, frequently dodging its lunges and spells. They made do with distracting it and just staying alive until Marnie could get through the snake. The chimera, like many things, was vulnerable to fire an ice, so Solas and Dorian cast as many offensive spells as they could whilst staying well out of reach. Trevelyan, Hawke, and Iron Bull were doing their best to keep the lion’s head occupied on the opposite side of the clearing, but even with its back turned, the chimera was a threat. The snake tail lashed out at the mages. Dorian and Solas stumbled back a few steps, their spells interrupted. Marnie adjusted her grip and dug one blade into the snake’s neck.

The snake whipped back with a hiss. The chimera turned on its heel in several tight circles in an attempt to shake Marnie off. Marnie dug her toes into the snake’s hide and kept working. Finally, the skin of the snake gave, and Marnie severed the tail completely with a few slices. The decapitated snake still flailed on the ground. Iron Bull and Stroud rushed to hack it to pieces before it could bite someone.

The others were focused on the rest of the chimera. Without a tail, the beast stumbled for a moment before teetering on its side. The lion and goat heads made their respective cries, and the limbs flailed uncontrollably. It was as if the remaining heads were struggling to gain control of the body. The quarrel gave the chimera’s opponents a mountain of opportunity. Spells burned and froze, arrows flew and embedded into the beast’s soft underbelly. Blades slashed and hacked.

The goats head fell backwards with an unholy bleat. Its eyes rolled back and its tongue hung from a slack jaw. It was dead, and the lion’s head followed swiftly after. Marnie made sure to look in its eyes. The chimeras of Gransys were true animals, even if they were beastly predators. The light leaving the lion’s eyes would betray fear, regret, pain. But the eyes of this demon couldn’t conjure an imitation of the emotion. The eyes were blank and empty until they rolled back into the lion’s skull.

The body twitched for a few moments before it began to disintegrate. Trevelyan looked among the group. They were all a bloody mess by now, but no one was hurt. Trevelyan approached the glowing memory and held his pulsating hand to it.

“Is everyone ready?” Trevelyan asked. The others gave them nods of affirmation. Trevelyan felt the Anchor pulse.

This time, the vision showed Trevelyan and the Divine crawling up an almost vertical wall while fears in the form of spiders skittered close behind them. Trevelyan and the Divine made for a Rift lying just ahead. Trevelyan recognized this.

“This is the Breach back in Haven. This is how we... how I escaped.”

The Divine stood at the top of the ledge, extending a hand over the edge to help Trevelyan up.

“The demon!” she cried.

They were both on level ground now, running to the Rift. Trevelyan calls to her over his shoulder.

“Keep running!”

Her scream makes him skid to a stop. He turned. She was being taken over by the spiders, pulled away from Trevelyan and the Breach. But they were so close! Trevelyan reached for her, returning the gesture she’d just given him, but she refused. The Divine looked him in the eye, completely lucid.

“Go,” she ordered.

She pushed herself away, sailing far away into the Fade. Trevelyan watched her go. There was no way he could recover her now. At least he wouldn’t let her sacrifice be made in vain. Trevelyan fled into the Rift.

They all knew the story from there. Recovering from the vision was easier this time. The Inquisitor turned to the Divine that had been assisting them during their nightmarish walk through the Fade.

“It was you,” his voice was quiet.

The Divine looked at him. She seemed a little unsure of what to do with herself. Had the Fade affected her this way? Or has she always been such. Trevelyan’s confidence in her credulity shook once more, but now the matter of his faith was shaken by something far more imperative.

“They thought it was Andraste sending me from the Fade, but it was the Divine behind me,” he said. “And then you... she died.”

The thing claiming to be the Divine was as unsettling as ever. She was standing too straight with her head angled down. The stature reminded Trevelyan of a helmet or mask hanging from a pole. She wasn’t human now, if she ever was to begin with. She was one with the Fade. How had he been so uncertain before?

“Yes,” she finally said.

“So this creature is simply a spirit,” Stroud said.

“I think we all knew that was the case, Warden,” Hawke returned.

The spirit’s expression was unreadable. “I am sorry if I disappoint you.”

Hawke gave her an apologetic look, but before he could gauge whether she was offended or not, the Divine burst into bright amber light. In her true form, the spirit was a glowing, floating outline of a human body, devoid of flesh or skin yet recognizable by the silhouette of the Divine’s head piece.

Trevelyan said, “The only thing that’s important right now is getting out of the Fade. Whatever you are, you’ve helped us so far.”

“What we do know is that the mortal Divine perished at the temple,” Hawke said. “Thanks to the Grey Wardens.”

“As I said,” Stroud glared at him. “The Grey Wardens responsible for that crime were under the control of Corypheus. We can discuss this further once we return to Adamant.”

“Yes, Adamant, where the Inquisition faces an army of demons raised by the Wardens.”

“How dare you judge us! You tore Kirkwall apart and started the mage rebellion!”

Hawke stepped so close that their chests nearly touched. “To protect innocent mages, not madmen drunk on blood magic! Even without the influence of Corypheus, the Wardens go too far. They need to be checked.”

“Agreed,” Solas chipped in. “The Wardens may once have served a greater good, but they are far too dangerous now.”

“Don’t know that we can pass judgment on the only folks who know how to stop Blights,” Iron Bull cautioned.

“Sweet Maker,” Trevelyan snapped. “Could the both of you please shut up? We can argue once we’ve escaped from the giant fear demon.”

Stroud and Hawke turned to the Inquisitor. Before they could argue, a trail of spiders crawled into the clearing.

“The Nightmare has found us,” the Divine spirit said.

Hawke and Stroud looked at each other, agreed to settle for now, and joined the Inquisition once more.

“Form up,” Hawke said. “I’m with you.”

Marnie and Dorian sent cascades of fire into the fray of arachnids. What creatures weren’t burned retreated, chased by arrows and spells. After that, the group moved quickly forward. The Nightmare was obviously getting frustrated at this point.

“Do you think you can fight me?” it demanded. “I am your every fear come to life! I am the veiled hand of Corypheus himself! The demon army you fear? I command it. They are bound all through me!”

“Ah,” the Divine spirit said. “So if we banish you, we banish the demons? Thank you, Your Every Fear Come to Life.”

It was silent after that. The Divine forged the path ahead, and the Inquisition trailed hurriedly after her. The Divine led them up a steep incline leading to the Rift.

“You must get through the Rift, Inquisitor,” she said. “Get through and then slam it closed with all your strength. That will banish the army of demons... and exile this cursed creature to the farthest reaches of the Fade.”

“The Rift!” Hawke called as it came into view. “We’re almost there!”

They reached a wide platform. The Rift stood ahead at the top of another incline. They were almost close enough to touch it. They just had to get past the Nightmare. The demon was even larger than any of them had anticipated, and it took the form of a large, hideous spider. Accompanying the spider was a tall humanoid figure in long robes with a spider for a head.

The Divine floated in front of Trevelyan for a moment.

“If you would, please tell Leliana....” She floated upwards towards the spider-faced demon. “I am sorry, I failed you, too.”

Bolts of lightening pulsed from her ethereal form, stunning the demon and sending it tumbling to the ground for a moment. What was left of the Divine spirit’s body burst into bright orange magma. She disappeared completely, and the Inquisition felt that she would no longer be with them in any capacity.

The humanoid demon struggled to stand again. The aspect of the Nightmare was the only thing standing between the Inquisition and freedom, and they’d all be damned if they let it stop them.

“Go!” Trevelyan shouted. They could strike before the demon recovered.

They all moved in. The archers and mages remained at the borders of the platform, keeping the demon cornered. The others did their best to bring it down. The hideous creature was repulsive to look at and unbearable to touch even with a blade. Still, they tried. The demon towered over the others. Each time it bowed to take a swipe at the group, they couldn’t help but recoil. Then as soon as it was given an opening, the demon would dart away.

The Nightmare watched the battle with amusement clear in its tone.

“You are nothing. I grow fat on your fear.”

“We can’t waste our energy chasing it!” Trevelyan barked. “Marnie, can you scale it?”

“I can’t. Those robes are too slippery.”

He didn’t question if she’d tried. He ordered the others to take positions around the platform to see if they could reach the demon faster as it moved. When this strategy worked well, the demon began to move through the Fade itself, teleporting whenever it got the chance.

Each time the demon teleported, Cole wasn’t far behind it. He stayed on its tail, stayed behind it, pulled back when he needed too, and his daggers always knew where to go. As they all drove the demon and inflicted gash upon crippling wound, the voice of the Nightmare turned from growling to shouting.

“You cannot stand against me! You will die in agony!”

Trevelyan almost scoffed. Iron Bull swung his sword in a wide slash into the back of the demon’s knees. As the demon fell forward, Trevelyan circled around it. He felt like retching, but he simply viewed this as a task that must be done. A gruesome, disgusting, sick-making task.

The demon looked up at Trevelyan, its spider legs writhing in a way that made his skin crawl. Trevelyan plunged his sword straight through the demon’s face. The demon went limp.

The way was clear.

“Go!” Trevelyan shouted, pulling his sword out of the dead demon’s skull. “Everybody get to the Rift!”

They all ran for the Rift. The pawns prioritized getting Marnie out safely, and she didn’t fight it. She couldn’t imagine being stranded in this Fade. One by one, each of them reached the Rift and jumped through. The Inquisitor, Stroud, and Hawke were almost there when the spider returned. It forced its way between the people and the Rift, pushing them back with a snarl.

“We need to clear a path!” Stroud shouted.

“Go!” Hawke volunteered. “I’ll cover you.”

“No! You were right,” Stroud admitted. “The Grey Wardens caused this. A Warden must—”

“A Warden must help them rebuild!” Hawke cut him off. “That’s your job. Corypheus is mine.”

They seemed to be at an impasse. Hawke and Stroud looked expectantly at the Inquisitor—he was the world’s savior now, so it wasn’t like he could sacrifice himself. But the hard decision was left up to him.

“Stroud,” Trevelyan turned to the Warden.

Stroud nodded gratefully. “Inquisitor, it has been an honor.” He turned and charged at the beast. “For the Wardens!”

Stroud sliced one of the Nightmare’s legs clean off. The Nightmare shrieked and followed him. While the demon’s attention was taken, Hawke and Trevelyan ran to the Rift. Trevelyan only looked back once to see Stroud still fending off the Nightmare as bravely as before. Then Hawke pulled Trevelyan through the Rift.

When the Inquisitor emerged from the Rift, Wardens, Inquisition soldiers, and demons were still in the middle of heated battle. Trevelyan spun around and raised his mark to the Rift. It sealed with a burst, and the demons disappeared with it. The people that remained cheered in celebration of the Inquisitor’s efforts and success.

“She was right,” Hawke said. “Without the Nightmare to control them, the mages are free, and Corypheus loses his demon army. Though as far as they’re all concerned, the Inquisition broke the spell with the blessing of the Maker.”

Trevelyan almost forgot that. “Once they understand what really happened....”

“Honestly, after all the death they’ve seen,” Hawke’s gaze wandered among the group. “Perhaps it would be better to let them believe the legend.”

Trevelyan considered it. An Inquisition officer joined the Inquisitor on the platform.

“Inquisitor,” he saluted. “The archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared. The Venatori magister is unconscious but alive. Cullen thought you might wish to deal with him yourself. As for the Wardens, those who weren’t corrupted helped us fight the demons.”

A Warden officer, high in rank as denoted by his armor and winged helm, saluted the Inquisitor.

“We stand ready to help make up for Clarel’s... tragic mistake,” the Warden said. “Where is Stroud?”

Hawke avoided returning the Warden’s look. Trevelyan explained. It had been his decision, after all. It was his responsibility to bear.

“Warden Stroud died striking a blow against a servant of the Blight,” Trevelyan said. “We will honor his sacrifice and remember how he exemplified the ideals of the Grey Wardens. Even as Corypheus and his servants tried to destroy all of you from within.”

“Inquisitor,” the Warden asked. “We have no one left of any significant ranks. What do we do now?”

Hawke looked at the Inquisitor. Trevelyan deliberated. Without Stroud to help repair the damages done to the Wardens and guide them in a more sound direction, enlisting the Wardens for help was too risky. They were vulnerable to Corypheus yet, and a danger if they ever repeated these mistakes. On the other hand, a harsh exile may be necessary, but that’s an opportunity untaken, and good people punished for a mistake that wasn’t entirely their fault.

“The unfortunate truth is that you’re still vulnerable to Corypheus,” Trevelyan said it as gently as he could. “Without Stroud to guide you, it’s too risky to enlist the Wardens into any kind of action against him. Regroup, gather your bearings, decide on new leaders and implement defensive measures against another attack like this before doing anything else. Only then may you return to your work. In the meantime, I’m sure the Wardens of Weisshaupt would appreciate any information you can give them about your experience.”

“So we are... banished, Inquisitor?” the Warden asked.

Trevelyan frowned, but nodded. “I’m afraid so, for now.”

When the Warden was dismissed, Hawke spoke up.

“I’ll go with them to Weisshaupt. Good luck, Inquisitor. It’s been an honor. And... take care of Varric for me.”

“I will,” Trevelyan nodded. They shook hands, a firm shake with subtle smirks on their faces, before Hawke turned to leave with the Warden. Trevelyan looked at the Inquisition officer again.

“Where’s Gale?” he asked. “He didn’t make it to the Fade with us. Is he alright?”

“He’s fine, Inquisitor. We found him on the battlements,” the messenger replied. “He’s with the Commander by the front gates.”

“Thank you,” Trevelyan nodded and turned to Marnie.

The Arisen stood from where she sat between her two support pawns. She was clearly eager to get back to him, so the Inquisitor led the others back through the fort promptly. After the demons expired, all battle ceased. Now all that was left were soldiers injured and recovering, Warden soldiers consoling disoriented Warden mages. It was an off-putting and far cry from what the fortress looked like even fifteen minutes before.

A number of soldiers and scouts were gathered just outside the fortress, and Cullen and Gale were among them. Gale’s gaze wandered from the group. As soon as he saw Marnie, he broke away from the commander’s side. Cullen tried to grab his arm, but then he saw Trevelyan’s group. He relaxed. Trevelyan hadn’t considered Cullen would self-impose the hands-filling job of ensuring Gale’s safety during their trip through the Fade, but his efforts were nonetheless very much appreciated.

“Master!” Gale ran to Marnie and clutched her arms so tightly he was afraid he’d bruise her. He just couldn’t let go for some reason, not until he got a good look at her. Lavender and Tate looked taken aback at first, but resumed their neutral expressions once more either because they figured it wasn’t their business or that this was just how Gale was allowed to act towards his Arisen.

“I’m alright!” Marnie reciprocated his grasp, albeit more gently. “We’re all alright.”

“I’m relieved to see you safe,” Gale sighed. He slowly released her and resumed his place beside her among his fellow pawns.

“You may thank Cole for that,” Marnie said. Cole straightened up, surprised that she was praising him for something she’d scolded him for in the beginning. Marnie gave him a sheepish look, the returned her attention to Gale. “He’d sustained some injuries, so I was hoping you’d look him over tonight.”

“Of course,” Gale nodded, then went over to Cole immediately to fret over him. Cole gave Marnie an amused look. Marnie only smiled carefully at him.

When Trevelyan joined Cullen, the commander was still watching Gale and running his fingers through his hair.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen sighed. “Thank the Maker. We were worried when we found Gale alone.”

“Was he alright?”

“Of course. Nothing ever seems to trouble the boy. Why would this be any different?”

“How are our troops?”

“We’ve taken a loss, but with us acting on the defensive, we’re better off than we could be,” Cullen replied. “It was well worth it. We interrupted the ritual in time and defeated the demon army. For now.”

Trevelyan gave him a look as if to sarcastically thank him for the optimism, but right now he didn’t have the energy to do much more than that. Cullen caught on at once.

“There’s an Inquisition camp about a mile east of here,” he gestured to the moonlit horizon. “You and the others can rest there tonight. I imagine you’re all exhausted.”

“Thank you, Cullen,” Trevelyan smiled.

-

The Inquisitor brought the others to the campsite, where they could all clean up, eat, and rest after their long trip in the Fade. When they reached the camp, the pawns immediately began assisting around the camp, moving effortlessly among the officers and injured, fetching supplies, helping set up more beds, even taking over tending the fire and distributing rations. They seemed to do anything and everything without tire, but they were hardly noticed by the people around them. Had he any energy at that point, the Inquisitor might’ve had an interest in watching them a while.

“Maybe we should get some of those in Skyhold,” Dorian mused with a yawn.

Gale ushered him to one of the empty tents. He trusted Cole to take care of his Arisen for a few moments. A few of them stayed up for some food, but for the most part, the night had exhausted them to the brink of total collapse. In the end, the only remainders were Marnie, Cole, and the pawns. Marnie sat by the fire with Cole lying next to her with his head and hands resting on her thigh.

“Marnie,” Trevelyan called over his shoulder before he turned in. Marnie gave him a questioning and lucid look. How could she still be sitting up at this hour? “Get some sleep soon. We’ll head for Skyhold in the morning.”

“Yes, Inquisitor,” Marnie nodded. “Sleep well.”

“You as well.”

Marnie watched the flap of his tent flutter shut before looking at the fire again. She looked down at Cole. He’d been still for some time now, and his breathing was slow. His eyes remained glued to the fire, unblinking.

“Do you truly never sleep, Cole?” she asked.

“Not usually...” Cole admitted, then stifled a yawn.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” she said. “I was so worried you’d gotten yourself killed for me.”

“You were scared,” Cole immediately defended her. “You didn’t mean to hurt me. You never meant it when you hurt Gale either.”

Marnie couldn’t help but be skeptical. True, he might’ve easily forgiven anyone for similar behavior. However, the reverence was still there—was he being so kind to her simply because she was the Arisen? Her argument with Solas recurred to her in that moment.

He can’t have you without corrupting what he truly is.

What ever was she going to do about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it an act of cowardice to have Cole magically heal himself, or was it an act of self-preservation on my part? Actually, it was neither! It's an important plot point, kind of. I think.


	14. Not a Pawn

After they returned to Skyhold, Gale was content to let Solas help him find new ways to sense the Fade even without a Rift nearby. In the afternoon, they stood face to face in the yard, both barefoot with their staves held before them. Heads bowed, eyes closed. Solas told Gale to mind his breathing, to focus on all his senses until he could feel each disturbance around them. The gentle breeze, the bending of the blades of grass beneath their feet, the people of Skyhold passing them by.... Soon, Gale should begin to recover a sense for his home.

“Do you feel it?” Solas murmured.

“Yes,” Gale exhaled, keeping his eyes shut.

Marnie passed through the courtyard just in time to see this exchange. She glanced at them and waved her hand dismissively. They could do their weird magic shit and never mind her; she had a task to do. She absentmindedly tapped the grass with a thin, two-foot long segment of a tree branch as she headed for the stable. After Cole took that blow for her at Adamant, it was obvious his delusions were getting out of hand. Well, it wasn’t like they were very in hand to begin with, but now that he put himself in danger, all for the sake of the Arisen....

Cole was in the barn already, just as Marnie had commanded in her thoughts. She tried not to be annoyed at him for following her orders so easily. She put a rope around the red elk’s neck and pulled her out of the stall into the corridor.

“You wanted to see me alone today,” Cole said, looking at her with his usual bright, aloof gaze.

“I have a task for you,” Marnie shifted her weight onto one foot. She didn’t waste any time coddling him.

“Alright,” Cole nodded.

Marnie offered the branch.

“Take this and hit the elk,” she ordered.

Cole jumped back like she’d struck him.

“But... I-I don’t want to hurt her.” Cole hid his hands behind his back.

Marnie lowered the limb indifferently, and Cole flinched again.

“If you were a pawn, you wouldn’t have hesitated,” she stated. Cole gave her a bewildered look. He knew what she was doing. “Stop acting against your nature, Cole. You need to accept that you are not, were never, and never will be a pawn for me to command.”

“But I can help you!” he pleaded. “Please, Arisen, I can be just like you want me to be. Tall, talented, tempered, and true... I can learn magic for you. I can help you.”

He was desperate. Marnie’s expression softened.

“Becoming like my main pawn won’t help,” she said. “You could help so many others! Everyone who’s hurting, everyone in this world, so long as you’re not fixated on me. Would you truly abandon the Inquisition for an Arisen?”

“But you’re helping the Inquisition,” Cole muttered, as if that made it a non-issue.

“I do not need your help. I have Gale and hundreds of other pawns. You can’t be among them because if you expire, you won’t return to the Fade. You’ll die. And the Pawn Legion would never accept you. You have no master but yourself. Cole, You have a will, and the others do not.”

Cole stared at the ground, his hands shaking. He knew it was all true, and it didn’t soften the blow any that it was she who said it. That didn’t matter. This had happened before. He remembered when Lambert had proved he wasn’t real. Why did this keep happening? He knew this wasn’t real. Cole looked at his bare hands, unmarked by the scar common to all pawns, and he knew. His stomach twisted with an uncomfortable mix of emotions. Anger, frustration, fear, anguish, loneliness, and despair. Despair, not despair....

Without letting another thought enter his mind, he bolted. He couldn’t stand to be here another moment. He ran out the opposite door of the stables and disappeared. Marnie sighed and let her shoulders sag. She felt for him, but ultimately she was glad her plan worked. The red elk nudged her arm, and Marnie smiled. She raised the branch and rubbed down the elk’s neck and back softly. The elk snorted and nudged her again, sniffing her pockets and hands to see if she might have a treat.

“Spoiled girl,” Marnie murmured affectionately.

-

Before the afternoon was up, Varric found Marnie exercising the elk in the paddock. He lingered by the fence next to Gale, who was sitting on the middle rail and cleaning some pieces of tack.

“Foxfire, what did you do to him?” Varric demanded.

Marnie wrinkled her nose and didn’t let herself get distracted from lunging the elk in circles around her. No hello, no chance to explain herself, just brash demanding.

“What did he say to you?” she asked tiredly, tugging on the elk’s leadrope. The elk slowed and stepped beside Marnie obediently.

“Nothing. He won’t talk to anyone, and now we can’t find him. What did you do to him?”

“I proved he wasn’t a pawn.” Marnie watched him for a deliberate moment before she reached up to unfasten the elk’s halter. She heaved a sigh. “He took a blow for me at Adamant. Had we not been in the Fade, he would’ve died. I can’t stand for such a preventable outcome. I couldn’t let it happen again.”

“What did you say to him, Marnie?” Varric’s tone was still stern, but even. “He’s really upset.”

“Well...” Marnie didn’t want her methods out in the open for everyone to judge. “I told him to hit the elk.”

“What?!”

“As a test!” Marnie clarified, hastily digging in her pockets for some bits of carrot for the elk. “I knew he wouldn’t do it because it’s completely against his nature.”

“And what if he had?”

“I wouldn’t have let him. I would’ve scolded him for doing anything he’s told and I would’ve told him to remember his true nature. Being kind, helping people. The Arisen isn’t infallible; the pawns only need to think so, so the Arisen is never without support. Cole needs to hold up his end so he isn’t corrupted. He’s volatile, whatever he is.”

“He’s a person, Marnie,” Varric reminded her. “A person you hurt. If you wanted to protect him, you could’ve done much better without rejecting him.”

After nudging her a couple times and finally deciding Marnie didn’t have any more treats, the elk wandered a few steps away to graze. Marnie watched her simply for avoiding Varric’s gaze. In truth, a middle ground between “being worshiped” and “being outcast” was a rare luxury for the Arisen. She couldn’t control anything when people were in the middle. At least if she and Cole rejected each other, he’d be safe from her influence. Although, if she wanted to make amends, she’d need to find Cole first, which would be impossible right now. Cole had already disappeared. Only one person could find him now.

Marnie turned to her pawn, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the fence.

“Go find him, Gale,” Marnie ordered. “Make sure he’s alright.”

“Yes, Master.”

-

Gale found Cole in a makeshift hollow behind a set of hay bales in the loft of the stable. It was a suitable hiding place; it was so inconspicuous that Gale wasn’t surprised no one thought to look there. Cole was lying on his side, curled up with his back to Gale. About a foot away from him, Gale recognized a few squirming figures resting on a bed of straw. Another litter of kittens.

“They came here because it’s drier,” Cole mumbled.

Gale could tell by his voice that he either was or had been crying. At least he was alright. As a pawn, Gale was never the best at addressing acts of emotion, but he’d picked up a few things from tending his own Arisen and watching his fellow pawns. Gale knelt at Cole’s shoulders and reached for one of the kittens. The queen didn’t so much as glance at him, though her kitten squealed weakly as Gale placed the ball of fur on top of Cole. He was trying to comfort him, but today it had the opposite effect.

“Don’t do that!” Cole burst, pulling the kitten off of him and placing it carefully with the queen again. Cole remained sitting up. “They have to stay together or they’ll get lost. They can’t see, don’t you know that?”

“I’m sorry,” Gale apologized. He leaned sideways to get a better look at Cole’s face. The boy looked no better than he usually did. Worse, actually. “Are you alright?”

“No.”

“I see. Is there something I can do to help?”

Cole didn’t say or do anything. Gale looked around the loft. After a moment, Gale scooted closer to Cole and put an arm around his shoulders. Cole leaned on Gale’s chest, tilting his head awkwardly to accommodate his hat.

“Varric is worried about you,” Gale said. “A lot of people are, actually.”

“I’m sorry...”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Gale’s tone was friendly, but Cole was far from reassured.

“The Arisen doesn’t want me anymore,” Cole whispered.

“No, she wants you, Cole.”

“She doesn’t want me to follow her anymore.”

“I know,” Gale nodded. “’Tis for the best, brother. You’re not a pawn, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care for you.”

“Then why did she leave me?” Cole asked, close to tears again. “Everyone leaves me when they figure out I’m not real to them. Rhys and Evangeline and now her.”

Gale swallowed. His voice was quieter when he replied.

“I’m still here.”

It was a risky statement, with him being a pawn. His company might not hold the same value as that of the Arisen, or even other people. But he remembered his and Cole’s common ground as people of the Fade. Cole wasn’t alone; that’s all Gale was trying to say.

“Thank you,” Cole breathed.

“You are real, Cole. You are you. The Arisen only meant to teach you that.”

“I know.”

“Then why strain yourself? If you know what you are, why try so hard to be a pawn, of all things?”

“I like pawns,” Cole sat up and looked earnestly in Gale’s eyes, their hands still entangled. “You’re good and you help people. And... if I’m a pawn, I can’t become a demon....”

“Is that what this is about?” Gale asked quietly. Cole couldn’t reply. “Are you afraid of being bound?”

“Not bound,” Cole shook his head. “Chained. Changed. Turned into a monster or something I cannot be.”

“Is that why the Arisen upset you so much?” Gale realized.

Cole stared forward in resignation. “You’re not my Arisen. I don’t have an Arisen. I am my own master. I’m the only one who can help me.”

“That’s not true,” Gale brushed some hair behind Cole’s ear. “You may have free will, but you can still ask for help. You still have friends here, Cole. Don’t forget that.”

“Alright,” Cole nodded.

-

That evening, the Inquisitor found Cole arguing with Solas in the yard.

“But you like demons!” Cole protested.

Solas sighed in exasperation. “I enjoy the company of spirits, yes. Which is why I don’t abuse them with the power of binding.”

“It isn’t abuse if I ask.”

“Not always true. Also, I don’t practice blood magic, which renders this whole conversation academic.”

Trevelyan waited in the yard to watch the scene. Cole walked over to him, pointing accusingly at Solas.

“He won’t bind me!” Cole said. “He’s a mage and he likes demons, but he won’t help.”

“Why would you want Solas to bind you?” Trevelyan asked.

“So I’m safe,” Cole’s voice broke. He turned away from the other two. “If Solas won’t do the ritual to bind me, someone else could. Will. Like the Warden mages at Adamant. And then I won’t be me. Walls around what I want, blocking bleeding, making me a monster....”

“Where is this coming from, all of a sudden?” Trevelyan looked at Solas. Solas shrugged.

“I suppose it could have to do with the... incident in the Fade,” Solas admitted. “You see, pawns remain invulnerable to binding. I’m sure Cole thought the same of himself before today.”

Trevelyan turned back to Cole. “Isn’t it extreme for Solas to bind you? What if that takes away who you are?”

“Helping makes me who I am,” Cole said. “I help the hurting. That is what I do. All I do. Am.”

“And if binding erases your mind?” Solas proposed. “Your consciousness?”

“You won’t make me hurt innocent people,” Cole said. “I don’t want to hurt innocent people again.”

Trevelyan wanted to take his shoulders or hug him, but Cole didn’t seem like he wanted any physical contact right now. It didn’t look like he’d tolerate it. Trevelyan settled for talking.

“We’ll figure something out that isn’t binding you, Cole.”

“I have a suggestion, if Cole is ready to listen,” Solas’s tone wasn’t without characteristic impatience. “I recall stories of amulets used by Rivaini seers to protect spirits they summon from rival mages. A spirit, wearing the Amulet of the Unbound, was immune to blood magic and binding. It should protect Cole as well. The resources of the Inquisition could be used to find such a talisman.”

“I’ll put someone to work on it,” Trevelyan said.

“Good,” Cole sighed, stalking away. “They will not take me.”

-

Three days came and went, and Marnie still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Cole. Gale still went to see him, but Cole didn’t have any interest in Marnie anymore. Marnie only wished he’d talk to her again, if only so she could apologize. She didn’t regret proving his nature to him, but she regretted upsetting him so much. True, she may not see him for a while yet, but at least he wouldn’t get hurt in her stead again.

On the third day, a few packages arrived in the mail for Marnie from Gransys. The Inquisition’s carter made regular circuits to collect any mail for the residents of Skyhold, and Marnie had been waiting for supplies from Val Royeaux for weeks now. One of Marnie’s cousins had ferried the goods to Val Royeaux, and the carter took it on from there. Getting something in the mail finally lightened Marnie’s mood. She brought the crates up to her room and unpacked everything with Gale.

There were a couple letters from her cousins; they wrote about how much they missed her and how long would it be until she came home. Marnie entertained the letters patiently. She did miss her friends in Gransys, but there was no need to fuss about going back yet. There was still much to do here. Next, there was a strangely pristine letter with a red wax seal on the front. Behind it, another white envelope. Marnie turned the letter over in her hands and frowned.

“What would the Duke be writing to me about?” she wondered. And how did he know where she was? Marnie tore open the envelope and looked the letter over. Her mood soured to exasperation and annoyance. Couldn’t he ever leave her alone?

Gale unpacked the crates while Marnie worried over the letter. Per the Arisen’s request, her cousins had pulled some of her belongings from storage and sent it over. Most of it was travel gear more suited to the harsh climate, but they also included dried flowers, pelts, a flower pot and plant cuts, and anything else they thought would quell her homesickness. Gale laid everything out with care. A few pieces of gear had been left with the smithy for commissioned improvements; Gale was certain his Arisen would be glad to see they’d all been completed. The armorer had also included a new saddle blanket with scarlet tassels for the elk.

Marnie recovered when she set the letters down. She joined Gale by the bed, folding her hands on his shoulder and leaning against him as she looked over everything on the bed.

“They sent over everything you requested,” Gale said.

“Mm, so they did,” Marnie nodded. She straightened. “Get changed. I need to talk to Jo.”

-

“Josephine?” Marnie began. “Er... Lady Montiliyet.”

Josephine looked up from her desk and gave Marnie a reassuring smile.

“What can I do for you, Marnie?” she asked. Marnie relaxed and held up a pristine white letter.

“I received a curious correspondence today—an invitation from the empress’ representative for the upcoming ball at the Winter Palace. Did you have anything to do with it?”

Josephine extended her hand curiously and perused the letter Marnie gave her. The wax seal was legitimate, the handwriting recognizable.

“No,” Josephine trailed off. “I only aimed to secure an invitation for the Inquisition—and then Inquisitor Trevelyan would bring a few people as his guests. You’ve been invited to speak at the peace talks?”

Josephine gave her a look of disbelief. Marnie shrugged emphatically.

“I had no knowledge of this before,” Marnie said. “The Duke of Gransys also sent a letter ordering me to interfere with the peace talks and reinstate the treaty between Orlais and Gransys.”

“I’ll ask the Inquisitor if I should investigate. Perhaps Leliana will have connections inside the Empress’ court.”

Something still didn’t sit right with Marnie. Josephine could tell by the look of discontent on her face. Josephine was quiet for a moment, waiting for Marnie to fill the silence with her troubles.

“He shouldn’t know where I am,” Marnie admitted rather sheepishly. “I didn’t tell him that I was leaving. Even so, I don’t know how the correspondence could be so efficient between him and the Empress. To organize my appearance in court in his stead for the business of a professional appearance with the Empress herself must’ve taken several letters. I don’t know how this could’ve happened so quickly.”

“That... is a little strange,” Josephine admitted. “I’ll try to verify the legitimacy of the invitation. If the invitation is fake, you’d be socially ruined in Orlais. Imagine anyone would be so presumptuous as to expect an audience with the Empress when they weren’t even invited.”

Marnie cringed at the very thought. “Yes, of course, you do that.”

Josephine tried to put Marnie at ease again.

“You’ve been attending the lessons I put in place for you, the Inquisitor, and the others, I take it?”

“Yes,” Marnie nodded. She wouldn’t betray who she hadn’t seen at the lessons, of course. But Marnie herself had been attending the lessons on court etiquette diligently, almost to the point she was embarrassed. In her defense, she had to re-teach Gale everything after the fact. The lessons bored him to no end; he wouldn’t even pretend to pay attention.

“Good,” Josephine sighed. “At least someone is. I’ll inform Trevelyan that you and Gale won’t be available to join him. Is there anything else you need? Clothes for the ball?”

“You’ve done so much already,” Marnie sighed. “Thank you, Josephine. I’ll leave you to your work. I have to get changed.”

Josephine only raised her eyebrows.

-

Even after everything her cousins had so generously delivered to her, Marnie still had a few things she needed for the ball. She made a plan to travel to Val Royeaux in the next few days to procure what she needed. She needed an outfit for herself and one for Gale. Luckily, she had enough in the way of savings to furnish such a purchase. In the meantime, Marnie decided to enjoy what she finally had.

Marnie was so excited to receive their finished commissions that she couldn’t wait to wear it. She spent the rest of the day walking around Skyhold in her armor—a now complete set of red leather accompanied by scarlet leggings and a similar cape. She was practically beaming when she found Dorian and Varric in the tavern. They were playing some kind of card game, but Varric seemed all too happy to abandon it as soon as she joined them.

“So that’s what you were waiting on,” Varric appraised her outfit. “What, couldn’t wait to get out in the field to wear it?”

Marnie grinned from ear to ear. She glanced up when she saw Gale walking down the stairs and into the tavern. The other two followed suit with audible reactions of their own.

“Looking good, Firefly.”

“That’s what a mage should look like,” Dorian said.

Gale’s healer’s robes were replaced with ancient looking but tasteful amethyst robes with accents made of carved bone. Under that was a long sleeved dark purple shirt and a blue kilt that reached his ankles. Various other pieces complimented the outfit, but most impressive was a cloak made of hundreds of large, brown feathers that draped down his back and shoulders. The entire outfit seemed to shine under the lighting of the tavern. If the outfit was as old as it looked, the armorer must’ve had a hell of a time revitalizing it.

“Where’d you get that ensemble?” Varric asked Marnie.

“Most of it was commissioned,” Marnie replied. “The animistic robes were reconstructed from some old bits we found in a ruin. The cloak is made of griffin feathers all from our hunts. The manufacture ran us maybe nine thousand gold?”

“Whoa.”

Dorian whistled.

“Anyway, now that we have some funds, we’re going to Val Royeaux to pick up a few things. We’ll probably stay for a few days. Hey, either of you want to come along?”

“I have a deadline coming up, unfortunately,” Varric declined. “If I ask for another extension, my editor will have my hide.”

“Would that I could, dear,” Dorian sighed. “But unfortunately, the Inquisitor asked me and Bull to the Emerald Graves to collect resources. Maker knows why.”

“Get some sun while you’re there,” Marnie smiled.

“Eat lots of grass,” Gale suggested, because that’s how they saw off their cattle.

Marnie gave an endeared shake of her head. That reminded Varric of something.

“You could ask Cole to go along.”

Marnie’s face fell. “No, he’s still not talking to me.”

“Still mad at you, huh?”

“I wish I could apologize to him. I never meant to make him so upset, I only...”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here. We know you didn’t mean any harm. It’s just a matter if Cole will be willing to listen to you.... He’ll come around eventually.”

Marnie gave him an appreciative look and kicked away from the table.

“I’m going to tell Trevelyan we’re leaving,” she said. She took Gale by the hand and they both waved over their shoulders as they left. “See you.”

Varric and Dorian waved before collecting their cards and resuming the game.

“‘See you’?” Dorian leaned across the table to whisper to Varric. “She’s beginning to sound like a native.”

“That she is. Your move, Sparkler.”

-

Marnie leaned on the wall outside the door to the council room. The Inquisitor was in the middle of a meeting right now, so she decided to just wait. Gale leaned on the wall right by her as usual. Once the doors opened, Trevelyan caught sight of Marnie. She straightened and walked alongside him down the hall.

“Inquisitor,” Marnie greeted. “How are the wars?”

“Coming along nicely,” Trevelyan replied. “You’re lively this evening. Your new gear looks great.”

“Thanks,” Marnie’s nose wrinkled when she grinned. “You should see Gale’s new stuff.”

“I saw,” Trevelyan looked over his shoulder at the pawn silently shadowing them. “He looks like a rich noble. Are you sure he can go out into the field like that?”

“Of course,” Marnie nodded. “Bull told me this trick—a practically dressed mage is a priority target, a well-dressed mage is a priority for ransom.”

“Huh.”

“Anyway, Gale and I are going to Val Royeaux for a couple days. Need anything?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t put you out like that. What are you going to Val Royeaux for?”

Marnie gave a look of disdain and pulled a wax sealed envelope out of her pocket.

“His Royal Pain-in-the-Arse back home has ordered me to interject the peace talks at the ball. We need to reinstate the peace treaty with Orlais soon; may as well do it now.”

“Does the Duke often trusts you with handling high-end political affairs?”

“’Tis basically a run-about job. There’s not much to negotiate. He’s such a lazy oaf. He makes me do everything for him. I’m going to have to find a reputable tailor for Gale and I. I doubt it would be tactful for us to show up on Gransian business wearing Inquisition garb.”

“Vivienne knows a good tailor,” Trevelyan said. “You could ask her.”

“I’ll have to sweet-talk her into giving me their name, then.”

“Easy on the sweet-talking,” Trevelyan advised. “She hates people who grovel.”

“... Yeah.”

Trevelyan glanced at her. Marnie started speaking again, quietly this time.

“Trevelyan, do I truly have any place here with the others, or am I just wasting my time?”

“What?” Trevelyan stared at her. “Marnie, the others like you. Varric and Dorian and Bull especially.”

But what about Cole? Marnie couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“I suppose,” Marnie allowed.

“What, is that not enough for you?” Trevelyan demanded. “Sorry we’re not as impartial to you as your pawns are, but we’re real people, Marnie. It’s time you remembered how to interact with someone who might disagree with you.”

“I know that,” Marnie sighed. She crossed her arms and looked away. “Cole and I had a fight recently. He won’t talk to me now, simply because he’s not a pawn.”

“Cole’s been on edge with everyone since Adamant,” Trevelyan recalled. “He and Solas had a fight as well—Cole was asking Solas to bind him. Wait, is that what you two were fighting about?”

“Not directly,” Marnie said. “But pawns can’t be bound by common mages. I fear Cole has a lot more on his plate than a lack of direction.”

Gale eyed her, then looked beyond the other two again. He held the door to the main hall open for them.

“Well,” Trevelyan changed the subject, resuming a casual tone again. “If you want to curry favor with Vivienne, she did ask me to do something for her recently.”

“Oh?”

“She needs the heart of a snowy wyvern for an alchemical formula,” Trevelyan explained. “Cullen said we could find one in the Exalted Plains, but snowy wyverns are very venomous. I’m not sure if I can manage it, on top of everything else. Not before the ball, at the very least, and by then I’m afraid it’ll be too late.”

“Let me take it, then,” Marnie offered.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to task you.”

“Trevelyan, I have next to nothing to do when you’re not tasking me with something. You can always ask me to help pick things up if you’re overburdened. The pawns and I can take care of it.”

Trevelyan heaved a sigh and felt as if one weight of many had been lifted off his chest.

“Thank you so much, Marnie. I’ll owe you one.”

-

Marnie took Gale and her two support pawns to the Exalted Plains to find the wyvern and claim the area previously blocked off by a rock slide. After establishing a camp, collecting some resources, and claiming a few other landmarks for the Inquisition, Marnie took to the marshes in search of the snowy wyvern. It was her first time being allowed to travel alone with just her pawns again. The arrangement left her feeling light in spite of the current work. Her pawns had plenty to say now that they were on their own again.

“’Tis never so... wet in Gransys,” Tate lamented as they trekked across the spongy ground.

“The fog makes it hard to see,” Gale noted. “Mind your footing, Master.”

“My feet are cold,” Lavender complained.

“Remember, we’re looking for a wyvern,” Marnie called. “We need the heart intact. Target the wings and the skull alone; I’ll handle extracting the heart after the beast’s dead.”

“Yes, Arisen,” came the chorus of three voices.

-

When Marnie returned to Skyhold, she took her boon to Vivienne’s balcony at once. She debated bringing her pawns to see if the First Enchanter would pay a little respect to those who helped procure such an ingredient, but Marnie thought better of it. She needed something from Vivienne. She’d better not pester the woman. Marnie stood behind Vivienne on the balcony and offered the satchel. Vivienne turned to face her.

“The Inquisitor informed me you’d be taking up the task,” Vivienne folded her arms. “You brought it more quickly than I’d expected. I take it the wyvern caused you no trouble.”

“’Twas easy with my pawns at my side,” Marnie replied. She withheld the satchel, and Vivienne raised a delicate eyebrow. “I crave a boon.”

“My, aren’t you precious,” Vivienne smirked. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“The name of your tailor.”

Vivienne couldn’t help herself from laughing in earnest this time. She reached a hand behind her to rest it on the balcony railing.

“Darling, you can’t be serious,” she was still beaming when she composed herself. “You risked your life to gain my favor for a name? That’s preposterous. I would’ve given you the name, dear, had you just asked. Besides, the Inquisition uniform will come in your size, don’t worry.”

“I’m going alone,” Marnie said.

Vivienne raised her eyebrows, but Marnie didn’t say any more. “Interesting.... And I presume you’ll need a tutor as well? I would oblige, but...”

“I don’t need your management, Vivienne,” Marnie withdrew the bag. “I just need respectable clothes for my pawn and myself.”

Her manner was rough, but Vivienne was obviously making progress with her.

“Good,” Vivienne held out her hand. Marnie handed the satchel over. “I’m going to Val Royeaux. If you’ll join me, I’ll vouch for you in person to my tailor. He’s quite picky about his clients. We can discuss politics on the way. Can I expect you to be ready to leave tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Then be ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gale: It's okay to ask for help!  
> Cole: Okay!  
> *smash cut to Cole asking Solas to bind him*


	15. Favors

Vivienne, Marnie, and Gale took a carriage to the capital. Gale had never ridden in a cart or carriage before, so he was extremely fascinated by the whole experience.

"'Tis like a moving room!" he said, reaching up to touch the ceiling.

"Control it, please," Vivienne gave Marnie a grossly bored look.

"You know, Enchanter, most people in Gransys ignore pawns completely. You may refrain from paying him any attention."

"Gladly."

Marnie sat tensely across from Vivienne and beside Gale. She considered whether she was too bold in taking Vivienne's offer. It wasn't like the two women got along, but maybe this was an attempt and an opportunity for the both of them to get past that. They may not agree on a lot, but they were still on the same side in the grand scheme of things. Besides, Vivienne wouldn't offer help if she honestly didn't want to follow through.

"So... your tailor can work miracles. Can they make two originals before the ball?"

"Absolutely, darling. Though you must know the Inquisition's resources are better used elsewhere. I hope Josephine gave you a generous allowance."

"We're good for it," Marnie nodded. Vivienne eyed Marnie. She wasn't sure if Marnie was being withholding to give less for Vivienne to use or because she was keeping secrets. Either way, her fashion was appropriate for court.

"How much court training have you had?" Vivienne asked.

"I was tutored for three years in Orlais," Marnie replied. "I went to a few soirees in that time. Nothing akin to the court of the Empress, of course, but I know how things work. I suppose there are only a few outdated manners to worry about."

"Worry not, my dear," Vivienne said. "If anything, it'll make you look charming, not incompetent. Do mind your pawn, though. You'll be thrown out in disgrace the moment it climbs on a table or offends the guests."

"Don't worry. Gale goes unnoticed when he needs to be."

"Tell me you're not bringing more than one," Vivienne sounded fatigued just thinking of it.

"I wouldn't dare," Marnie assured her lightly. "What's in style lately? I can stand having old manners, but I don't think the nobility will excuse being out of style."

"Quite right," Vivienne nodded. "Lately I've noticed a number of older unmarried women taking up a particular shade of light blue in their outfits. Low cuts are always in fashion, but you must have a certain... _standing_ to pull it off."

"So you could," Marnie stated. "I was considering getting a suit, actually. 'Twould be most practical, in case we need to intervene in anything. Although a gown would easier conceal weapons."

"My, my, you aren't considering bringing weapons into the court of the Empress, are you?"

"Oh, as if I'd be the only one!" Marnie retorted. "Hatpins were all the rage for their versatility when I lived in Orlais. But I won't risk anymore than that. 'Tis not like I'll be walking in with a bow and daggers."

"Inquisition agents will be smuggling gear for the Inquisitor. I encourage you to use _those_ resources."

"Naturally," Marnie nodded. Then they whiled away the hours to the capital discussing fashion and things that seemed of little import.

-

After leaving them with the tailor, Vivienne disappeared to attend to business farther into the city. She told the Arisen not to wait up for her. In truth, aside from taking her to the tailor, Marnie doubted Vivienne had much intention to accompany her anywhere. So, Marnie and Gale were left to their own devices in Val Royeaux.

Marnie and the tailor chatted amicably as the tailor took Marnie's measurements and discussed what she was having made. She asked for specific colors and some implementation of the Gransian crest to denote who she was. Marnie's taste was modest, but if the tailor recommended something fashionable, Marnie was easily swayed. She spared no expense.

"You're a member of the Duke's court?" the tailor asked.

"We're appearing to the Empress in his stead," Marnie replied.

"And what do you usually wear to court?" the tailor asked. "I'd love to inspire my design with your culture."

Marnie looked a bit sheepish. "We usually wear our armor."

She expected the tailor to find such behavior gauche or barbaric, but he was quite the opposite.

"To show your station," he stated.

"Not exactly..." Marnie figured she'd look specifically foolish if she was caught in a lie about it. "'Tis more to show who you are. If you're in armor, you're either an ambassador for foreign troops or you're a part of the Duke's elite task force. Our position is, for lack of a better word, militant. Not political."

The tailor gave her the strangest look. He was confused as she was as to why the Duke would send a soldier to court. Why wouldn't he send _anyone_ else, anyone with more experience in politics?

"It will take sizable effort on my part to not look foolish," Marnie said. "I'm sure the Empress would be mortified meeting with someone poorly dressed. I trust you'll do your part to help me. Our Lady Vivienne did recommend you in highest faith."

Marnie couldn't read the tailor's expression behind the mask, so she gave a wistful look to her pawn. Gale had stopped poking around the shop some time ago and now leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. She'd noticed him falling into that position more and more often lately. Was he bored? Sullen? Under-stimulated? She'd hate for him to fall into repetitive behaviors simply because she wasn't doing enough for him. Besides, it was odd for him to grow fatigued of his pawn-like behaviors. He was usually so restless that he was hard to restrain, but lately he'd neglected observing the world around him in favor of sitting still and being quiet. It worried her, some.

Gale didn't notice Marnie staring at him for a few minutes. When he did, he straightened almost apologetically, as if he thought she'd asked him to do something. Marnie gave no indication. She looked a bit sympathetic, if anything.

The tailor stood and turned to Gale.

"And for your... companion?" the tailor asked, unsure of how to address Gale yet. Vivienne hadn't done anything to establish who Gale was or why he was there.

"I'll have a matching suit made for him, please," Marnie requested, stepping aside. Gale took her place and shifted his weight to one foot. The tailor began taking Gale's measurements. "He won't need the crest; just the color. The more subtle you can make it, the better."

"Stand up straight, please," the tailor muttered.

Marnie looked back at Gale. He stood up straight again, but only long enough for the tailor to finish measuring him. As soon as the tailor got to his feet, Gale slouched on one foot again. He was just staring at the ground at this point, and Marnie wondered why he'd gotten so sullen all of a sudden. Still, she finished with the tailor without calling attention to it. They finished drafting the design and discussed the payments before bidding their good afternoons and parting ways.

Gale followed Marnie out to the street with his arms folded and his head hanging. Marnie took his arm since she couldn't take his hand and pulled him aside.

"Hey," she started quietly. Gale's gaze lifted. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Arisen."

Marnie wasn't sure. He always said he was alright.

"You've been sulking since we arrived," Marnie noted. "Are you tired from the trip? Is it something Vivienne did?"

" _No_ , Arisen," Gale looked at Marnie imploringly. It truly wasn't that. Then what was it?

Marnie fell silent. She reached a hand up and cupped the back of Gale's head, bringing him closer until their foreheads touched. Gale melted at the touch. Timidly, his tense hands disentangled from his sleeves and reached for her free hand. He nearly crushed it in an iron grasp. When Marnie opened her eyes again, Gale looked harrowed, but he still didn't explain himself.

"Let's get something to eat," she suggested. If he wasn't going to tell her what was wrong, she wouldn't force him.

They went to a bakery nearby, where they could smell the fresh bread and sweet treats from a block away. Marnie bought a fruit-filled pastry for herself and a bun covered in honey for Gale. She knew he hadn't had one before. As they sat outside the bakery eating their treats, Marnie divided her attention among the people of Val Royeaux and her pawn.

Gale perked up after having something to eat, so Marnie finally allowed herself to relax again. From resignation, not relief. It was so easy to forget that even her own pawn could have an experience or a backstory completely unknown to her. Visiting other worlds through the Fade, even the few moments they spent separated in their own world had an effect on him. And it wasn't like he'd just tell her what was on his mind—most pawns wouldn't. Marnie had almost forgotten that since Gale had been stuck with her for months now.

-

In the city, there was always much to do, and more unspoken rules than one could count. Climbing on rooftops and collecting fountain coins might've been a common spectacle in Gransys, but Marnie would surely leave a negative impression on the people of Orlais if she attempted any of that here. Still, she and Gale found other things to do. They perused shops, bought a few goods and gifts, and explored the reaches of the capital. Night had fallen by the time they returned to the inn where they'd booked a room for the night.

"I suppose we'll head out in the morning," Marnie said to Gale as she settled down for bed.

She sighed when she hit the mattress. Even the cheapest inn in Val Royeaux had beds to rival those in Gran Soren. Gale watched her from the window with a small smile until her breathing became heavy and even. Then he resumed looking out the window at the pale gibbous moon. There were few things to observe at this time of night, but the curious celestial body had Gale's attention for the night. He wondered why there wasn't a moon over Gransys.

-

Marnie was surprised to hear from her pawn the next morning that Vivienne had already left the city—yesterday afternoon, no less. Marnie would've been a little miffed, but Gale also said Vivienne had arranged for another carriage to take Marnie and Gale home, if they elected to use it. In the end, the Arisen was only a little shocked Vivienne would leave them without saying anything. Neither of them were the other's keeper. She'd express her thanks to Vivienne for introducing them to the tailor when they reunited in Skyhold.

That decided, Marnie and Gale began their journey back to Skyhold before noon and arrived at sunset few days later. Though the evening was still young, Marnie didn't make any appearances around the castle after they retreated to their room with their boxes and bags in tow. Marnie spent the evening sorting through their purchases and attempting to place all the fittings she'd received in the mail weeks ago. Gale helped by not doing anything; Marnie was putting things in a particular way for now, and he had no say nor idea how it should go. Marnie eventually felt bad for him.

"Why don't you look around Skyhold?" she suggested. "You don't have to bore yourself for my sake."

"I'm not bored," Gale shook his head reassuringly.

"Go see the others," Marnie nodded to the door with a smile. "You have other people in Skyhold who would like to see you. Dare I say, Gale... I think you've made friends here."

"I have..."

Gale let that thought guide him through the halls as he searched the fort. He thought about who would consider themselves his friends. Varric was definitely one of them. Gale remembered how the Inquisitor had reassured the Arisen. _Varric and Dorian and Bull especially._ Did that carry over to Gale as well? Did "liking someone" mean they were friends? Is that truly all it took?

He supposed it did. Even considering all that, Cole was an obvious choice. Gale didn't even have to think about that.

He found Cole first, since he was so easy to find in the attic of the tavern. Cole was perched on the third floor on the edge of the loft, letting his feet dangle between the bars of the railing as he watched the patrons below. He looked up and beamed when he felt Gale approach.

"May I join you?" Gale asked, more out of being polite than asking for permission.

"Yes, please," Cole sighed.

"Any hurts tonight?" Gale asked, settling cross-legged beside him.

A head shake. "Not many. Sera made them all laugh. They're singing again. I wanted to help her, but she sort of scares me."

Gale was glad morale was better tonight, at least. "How have the others been?"

"Alright," Cole replied, then amended his statement. "Better, I mean. The Inquisitor helped Cassandra and Varric. Varric gave her a book she'd been wanting. She reads them to me, when she wants to. She thinks reading it with someone else would hurt, but she wants to share it."

"Oh?" Gale leaned an arm on the railing. He seemed to recall the books Cole was referring to.

Cole nodded. His gaze wandered. A forlorn look overcame him, and he looked beyond the walls of the tavern in the direction of the main hall.

"Dorian's alone. Sharp feeling. A fresh bruising over a wound he'd left years ago. It still hurts. The skin is weak after it's been damaged."

"Has he been hurt?" Gale asked. If he needed healing, Gale would be happy to provide.

"Not like that."

"Oh." Gale understood immediately. "What happened?"

Cole was hesitant to answer. He remembered how Dorian scolded him for bringing it up on the road, and he remembered how Varric had lectured him about "discretion" and respecting people's private thoughts. "You don't talk about people when they're not around." Cole knew that. Gale tried to wait him out, but in the end Cole only said Dorian left for a few days and came back like this.

"Won't you help him?" Gale asked.

Cole looked away. "I could, but... if I do anything wrong, I might make it worse... I've done all I can to help him."

Gale considered it. He knew Cole felt... vulnerable after his and Marnie's falling out. Maybe he feared more rejection. Maybe in preserving himself, Cole was less confident in what he was able to do to help people. Gale didn't know. But he did know that friends helped each other, and he knew how to help his Arisen after events that he either didn't witness or didn't understand.

"I'll make sure he's alright," Gale stood. "I'll keep an eye on him, just in case it gets bad."

Cole let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. It's good that he won't be alone."

-

Gale wanted to know what had happened to Dorian, but more importantly, he wanted to know if he was alright. If they were friends—which Gale was sure they were—Gale wanted to know if there was anything he could do. He found Dorian brooding by the window of the library, alone. He was sitting at a small table with a glass in one hand and a bottle of wine on the table. Was he alone because he wanted to be by himself, or because he didn't want to be around the others? Gale thought best to find out before making another move.

"Must you brood like that alone?" Gale asked.

"Ah," Dorian looked forlornly over his shoulder, unable to muster the energy to even fake bravado. "Forgive me. Is my brooding disturbing your Arisen? Did she send you to scold me?"

"No. Are you alright?"

Dorian chuckled mirthlessly. "That's a _rich_ question, isn't it? If I must tell you, no, I am not. I'd rather leave it at that."

Gale shifted on his feet. He wasn't sure quite what to say, but if Dorian was going to send him away, he would've done so already. Dorian refilled his glass and offered some to Gale.

"Care for any?"

"No, thank you," Gale shook his head. "I don't drink."

But he sat in the other chair and waited. Dorian must've been a glass or two in already, judging by his loose motions and even looser lips.

"You've come to pry, I take it?" Dorian asked. "Because you and Cole. You never know when business is your own."

"Only if it would make you feel better," Gale said. "You don't have to tell me."

Dorian opened his mouth, then shook his head. "Your social skills are better than Cole's, at least. At times. Tell me, is your Arisen prone to fits of melancholy? Or is this something all pawns learn to do?"

"Is _what_ something all pawns learn to do?" Gale asked.

" _Being here_ ," Dorian said. "Gravitating towards people with problems. I thought you and Marnie would be gone for another day, yet here you are to fret over me just when I thought I'd get some time alone."

"Do you want to be alone?" Gale asked. "If you did, you'd be drinking in your room."

Dorian heaved a sigh. He supposed he didn't have an argument for that. If he wanted to be around people, he'd be drinking in the tavern. Where people could see him and have their thoughts and opinions. He couldn't deny that being in the presence of a pawn who couldn't judge him was different. Even Cole was prone to making unwarranted statements compared to Gale.

Dorian didn't know what came over him, but before he knew it, he was telling Gale everything. About going to see his father in Redcliffe, about how his father had tried to bind him for not "saving face" for the family, about his attraction to men and all the personal backstory he'd suffered for it, about Dorian and the Inquisitor's conversation following their trip wherein Dorian maybe slightly suspected that the Inquisitor was trying to get rid of him or that the Inquisitor didn't want him there in some form or fashion. And Trevelyan wasn't the only one, with Bull's needling, the Arisen's pestering. Why did he even try to endure here if no one could fucking stand him? Most of those feelings were probably paranoia or miscommunication, but that's how it felt right now. Why else would the Inquisitor lie about taking Dorian to see his father and then try so hard to get them to make up?

As he was telling all this, Dorian had an inkling Gale was only humoring him, but Gale gave no indication he was doing anything but listening politely and intently. The influx of information didn't even faze him. At last, Dorian could unload everything without a fear of someone jumping to conclusions, judging him, or even trying in their own patronizing way to _help_. But the action still came with guilt, and maybe a feeling left over like he'd shared too much and must never speak again.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I suppose this is overwhelming for you. I'm not your Arisen."

"'Tis alright," Gale replied slowly. He honestly didn't mind hearing about other people's troubles. And since they were in the business of sharing, Gale thought it fair to bring up some of his own experience. Just so Dorian didn't feel awkward. "I had a human friend... His name was Eren. He liked men, too."

Dorian raised his eyebrows and took a sip from his glass. His patience was admittedly thin, but he didn't have the energy to dismiss Gale.

"His father rejected him as well," Gale looked out the window. A slight fog had settled in the yard. "'Tis my fault his father found out. He saw us making love on the beach, and he never forgave Eren for that. Eren stayed with me after that; I took care of him."

Dorian's eyes widened. "You had a human boyfriend in another world?"

Gale nodded. "I was happy with Eren. I can't remember what happened to him. I feel s... _sad_ when I think of him?"

Gale looked to Dorian with a weary, confused look on his face. Dorian's eyes trailed idly up and down Gale's form.

"Yes, that sounds about right," Dorian sighed. He leaned on the window. Just slightly closer to Gale. The icy cold of the glass soothed the oncoming headache. "So you and I have more in common than I thought."

Gale didn't say anything. Dorian tentatively reached forward to cup his hand over Gale's to keep him in place.

Gale stayed as long as necessary, which was a long time, but he was happy to ensure Dorian didn't suffer alone. After more conversation and some time with just the two of them, Dorian finally sat up. He didn't dare try to stand with Gale sitting there.

"Your Arisen must hate me for dragging you away from her so long," Dorian sighed. "Go return to her. Leave me in my wallowing."

"Oh, no," Gale shook his head. "She's already asleep. I haven't anywhere to be tonight. Actually, she might feel better if someone ensured you got to bed in one piece."

"Such a worrier, your Arisen," Dorian rolled his eyes, but not unkindly. "Help me up."

He let Gale accompany him upstairs. He draped an arm around Gale's shoulder and hung on him as Gale escorted him to bed. He didn't question how or why Gale knew the way.

"You're a lovely boy, Gale," Dorian said. Or at least, that's what Gale thought he was saying; it was harder to tell when Dorian was so drunk. "Your Arisen is... in good hands, I can assure you."

"Yes, Master Pavus," Gale said as he led Dorian to sit on the edge of his bed and knelt to take off Dorian's shoes. Dorian watched him with a dizzy, half-lidded gaze.

"Mm..." he sighed. "I'm 'Master' now, am I?"

Gale gave him an expression that was as vague as the pawn ever was, but something about it captivated Dorian so deeply that the ache ever increased. Dorian's head swam and his heart fluttered ever faster as the pawn stood up and guided Dorian under the covers. Just before Gale turned to leave, Dorian's hand darted out to grab the pawn's wrist. He didn't know what had come over him. Just a couple hours ago, he couldn't get rid of the pawn. Now he didn't want to. Loneliness, was that it? Did it truly compromise him, after everything else he'd had to endure?

Something dawned on Gale's face. Not quite realization; he knew what Dorian was up to the moment he started talking. But something in the pawn changed. He was no longer the rigid support of a servant; he was a person in a way Dorian didn't see before. Gale sat on the edge of the bed and lied down on top of the covers with him. Gale took Dorian's hand in a gentle hold.

Neither of them said anything at first, but there was an unspoken communication between them. Gale continued looking at Dorian with that peculiar look. Dorian was overwhelmed with an absurd urge to kiss Gale, but he couldn't decide on kissing his lips or his cheek or his forehead... or whether he _should_ do such a thing in the first place.

"What are you thinking about?" Gale asked quietly. He noticed Dorian hadn't fallen asleep yet.

"You," Dorian admitted. "What about you?"

Gale rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, still holding the other's hand. He thought about how to phrase it for a moment before braving a small whisper.

"Sometimes... I feel like I could do _better_ than my Arisen," he admitted. "As if... she _isn't_ the only thing I care about. Is that bad?"

Dorian chuckled and pressed his forehead against Gale's cheek. Of course Gale would be thinking about something so simple, so gentle.

"I think worse things every day," he said. "The whole _world_ makes people like us feel like _caring_ is wrong, Gale. Don't fall for it."

Normally he wasn't so trite. But Gale was different. He was naive. He was vulnerable in a way most people weren't. Dorian couldn't let that be lost for negligence on his part.

Gale smiled, half at Dorian's words, and half at the physical contact. Dorian didn't speak again. He was finally asleep. Even then, Gale didn't move. He just lied there, listening to Dorian's steady breathing and reveling in the peace of this moment.

-

The next morning, when Dorian roused, Gale was lying in bed right next to him, watching him, though not in the most unsettling way. Dorian bolted upright in bed, looking around the room frantically. Gale sat up as well, rubbing his eyes and brushing his hair back into place with his fingers. Gale had lost some clothes last night. He was still fully covered, but his shoes and robes had been discarded into a neat pile at the foot of the bed.

"I suppose you've slept long enough," Gale murmured. "I suppose you didn't remember last night right away. Take your time."

"I—" Dorian didn't know what to say. "I don't suppose we..."

"Don't worry, Dorian. I wouldn't take advantage of you," he said. "You let me stay the night, that's all."

"And your Arisen is okay with that? _You're_... okay with that?"

Gale straightened, arms full of clothes, and gave Dorian a wide, genuine smile. There it was, that personhood again. Had it not recurred, Dorian might've thought he'd imagined it last night.

"Dorian, you're my friend. 'Tis no reason to be ashamed of what we are."

Dorian watched Gale as he looped his arms into the sleeves of his robe and pulled it into place.

"Do you feel very sick?" Gale asked.

"I fear I'll have a headache for days," Dorian replied tersely.

"I'll have tea made for you," Gale offered.

"That's quite alright Gale. I'd rather sit with it a while."

"Alright," Gale nodded. "I should return to my Arisen. She's already woken. If you need anything else, I'll be with her."

"Alright," Dorian nodded, then before Gale managed to disappear, he said, "Thank you, Gale."

Gale didn't say he was welcome or anything. He only looked at Dorian with that strangely bright, lively "person" look that made Dorian's heart flutter with uncertainty and comfort all at once. A stern nod. Then Gale was gone.

-

Marnie didn't think much of it when she woke alone. She dressed herself, got some breakfast, and headed to the stable before the Inquisitor found her.

"Marnie," he greeted her. "How was Val Royeaux?"

"Fine. Though considering how you're asking, you have more important things to talk to me about."

Trevelyan put the pleasantries aside. "Solas needs our help with a personal matter. We need to help a friend of his—a _spirit_ friend. I figure your expertise could be of some use."

"I'll find Gale," Marnie said. "I don't know where he's gotten off to, but we'll be ready as soon as you need."

"Good. I'll see you two at the gates in one hour."

He left her then, and Marnie tacked the elk and packed their things. Gale didn't come to her even when she called, so she hid away in an empty room of the main hall and tossed a Riftstone shard into the air. The stone exploded in a swirl of ethereal light, and Gale fell through. The pawn landed on his feet and raised his right hand to show the glowing scar on his palm as the small Rift closed behind him.

Marnie was not pleased. He could tell by how she was glaring at him.

"What happened?" she asked.

It wasn't foolish to think Gale could make it back to his and Marnie's room by himself without incident, but after leaving Dorian that morning, Gale took a detour on the battlements and ended up falling off when a flock of birds startled and flew by him. At this point in his story, Marnie and Gale were already with the others at the gate and were setting off on their journey.

"You fell of the battlements?!" Marnie demanded. "We don't have a wealth of Riftstone fragments here, Gale. Why am I wasting them over trivial matters like you falling off the battlements right outside our _bedroom_!"

Gale looked thoroughly reprimanded but simultaneously indifferent as she scolded him. She wasn't truly angry with him, but Gale understood her frustration. They didn't have many fragments or access to a Riftstone. As long as that was the case, Gale was almost mortal. They both needed to be more careful. None of the others in their company reacted. The Inquisitor, Solas, and Cassandra only looked at the road ahead. It was a long way to the Exalted Plains.

-

In the Exalted Plains, the group followed Solas as he led them along the road to where he'd heard his friend. As they drew closer to the place, the path became a trail of destruction. First they saw the body of a mage, killed by arrows. Next they saw rubble and burned bodies along the trail.

"These look like claw marks," Cassandra indicated one of the bodies.

"The work of a beast, perhaps?" Gale asked.

"No," Solas looked ahead. His face changed to one of despair as he saw an outcropping of pillars surrounding a large monster in the clearing. "No. No, no, no..."

They jogged a bit closer, then came to a grinding halt so they wouldn't alert the demon. The Pride demon was doubled over, as if immensely weak. But even in this state, it could cause unimaginable destruction.

"No," Solas gasped. "My friend."

He balled his hands into fists in front of his face with a growl of rage. Trevelyan turn to Solas, irritated that this little detail was omitted when they set out.

"Anything you'd like to share, Solas?" he proposed.

" _That_ is not it's natural form!" Solas shouted. "It's been corrupted!"

"Corrupted?"

"Forced to act against its original purpose," Solas elaborated. "What did they do, what did they do, what did they do?!"

Gale put an arm in front of the Arisen to keep her behind him. He had never seen Solas so angry before. It might've scared him, actually, but he'd come to learn that Solas wasn't going to do anything in front of the others. Not like this. Still, Gale didn't look away from Solas, even as another mage joined them.

"We'll figure this out, Solas," Trevelyan tried to placate him. Solas looked between him and the stranger.

"Perhaps we should ask," Solas snapped.

"A mage!" the stranger tentatively greeted them. "You're not with the bandits? Do you have any Lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted. We've been fighting that demon..."

"You _summoned_ that demon!" Solas yelled. "Except it was a spirit of wisdom at the time. You made it kill! You twisted it against its purpose."

"I-I-I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studied demons, but after you help us, I can—"

"We are not here to help you," Solas growled. After a moment of staring the man down to the point the other man cowered, Solas looked expectantly at Trevelyan.

"We're here to help the wisdom spirit that _you_ corrupted," Trevelyan's tone was level but accusatory. "And I don't recommend explaining how demons work to my friend here."

"Listen to me," the other mage pleaded. "I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall Circle—"

"Shut. Up." Solas didn't tolerate any more from the man. "You summoned it to protect you from the bandits."

"I... yes."

"You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned." He turned to Trevelyan. "The summoning circle. We break it, we break the binding. No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon."

"What?" the mage asked. "The binding is the only thing keeping the demon from killing us. Whatever it was before, it is a monster now!"

"Inquisitor, please!"

"Breaking a summoning circle has to be easier than fighting a demon," Trevelyan said. The other mages were already fleeing.

"The summoning circle is part of the demon's current nature," Solas warned. "It will certainly attack us as we attempt to break it."

"Inquisitor, the Arisen can distract the demon while the rest attack," Gale suggested. "The demon would be drawn to her either way."

Trevelyan and Marnie exchanged glances. She looked ready and willing to comply.

"Do it," Trevelyan said. "Make sure it doesn't get near anyone else."

"Leave it to me," she nodded and sprinted around the beast in a tight circle.

"Don't hurt it!" Solas called after her, flinching as the Pride demon took a swipe at her. "We must hurry."

There were four pillars in an uneven pattern around the clearing, each glowing with a strange spirit energy. The pillars had a similar texture to soapstone—rather soft for a stone, easily carved, but still a chore to break. Trevelyan and Cassandra struck the pillars with their swords, Solas conjured destructive spells to disrupt the magic. Gale had little to do aside from watch and worry over his Arisen. Trevelyan tried not to be irritated with him for not helping. He knew the pawn must be worried for his master brazenly placing herself in harm's way even for a good cause.

Marnie had yet to even raise her weapons at the demon. She'd been moving more and more slowly around it, keeping just out of its reach as it spun. Soon, she slowed to a complete stop in front of the demon while the others worked at the pillars behind it. The Pride demon stared her down, heaving with exertion and a will to fight.

"Arisen, be careful!"

"Just stay over there, Gale! Easy..."

Trevelyan braved a glance at the Arisen. With how Gale had shouted, he feared she'd gotten injured or pinned somewhere. However, what he did see made his stomach drop like a stone.

Marnie was unarmed. Her daggers were still sheathed. She stood still in front of the demon with her palms extended as if she was calming a disgruntled animal. What was even more unsettling was that the _demon_ was completely still. It glowered down at her, but it didn't make a move to attack her, though it had ample opportunity. It was... calm.

"What is she doing?" Trevelyan whispered, the pillars momentarily forgotten.

Solas mumbled something incredulously under his breath in elven. Marnie was so fixated on the demon she didn't notice the others. She smiled slightly in relief.

"There, that's better... Stay like that, look at me."

They made quick work of the last pillar. As soon as it was broken, the demon shrank. Its monstrous form dissolved, leaving behind a humanoid specter swathed in darkness with glowing green eyes. Marnie relaxed. She flinched when she felt Solas's hand on her shoulder. Solas moved past her to kneel before the specter.

He spoke in elvhen, and the spirit reciprocated. The spirit was in pain. Solas couldn't bear to watch it as he raised his hands and released the spirit. It disappeared, leaving a silence and stillness in the area that made it feel empty. The world lost another good spirit, simply because it was turned against its nature for a short while.

"I'm sorry, Solas," Trevelyan spoke quietly.

"Don't be. We gave it a moment's peace before the end. That's more than it might've had. All that remains now is them."

He stood, and the anger slowly returned to his face, albeit less severe now. He stalked towards the rampant mages.

"Thank you!" the mage started. "We would not have risked the summoning, but the roads are too dangerous to travel unprotected."

"You tortured and killed my friend."

Solas continued walking, and the mages backed away in response.

"We didn't _know_ it was just a spirit! Th-the book said it could help us!"

Solas was going to kill them. Trevelyan hesitated from intervening and looked among his companions. Cassandra looked coldly at the mages. Marnie was averting her gaze as Gale clutched her arms so hard that his hands shook. By the time Trevelyan looked back at the rogue mages, Solas had conjured a burst of flame that killed them instantly. Now the mage only looked at the embers.

"Damn them all," he growled. "I need some time alone. I will meet you back at Skyhold."

-

Trevelyan, Cassandra, Gale, and Marnie traveled back to Skyhold alone. They set up camp at night just outside the Plains to make sure Solas wouldn't be joining them. If he didn't, they'd set out that morning. As they did their nightly rituals, none of them spoke. The mission was a failure in a sense, but the stakes were admittedly, (though they were loathed to admit), inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. A tragedy that didn't even belong to them.

That being said, Trevelyan eventually warmed up to ask Marnie something that had been bothering him. He didn't know what to make of Marnie's interaction with the demon. Was she able to help it recall its true nature due to her pull to the Fade? Or was this another magic trick she neglected to tell them about? No, he knew her better now. She wouldn't keep it from him; he just had to ask her.

"Marnie?"

She looked up from where she sat by the fire. Trevelyan sat with her.

"Yes, Inquisitor?" she asked.

"I was wondering about what happened when we were helping Solas' friend."

"Oh," Marnie looked sheepish, and for a moment Trevelyan thought the worst. But her next words put him at ease again. "You want to know why I didn't intervene."

"What? No, I wanted to know how you tamed the demon."

"What?"

"When you were distracting the Pride demon, I saw you... stand in front of it, and then it stopped moving. It seemed calm. How did you do that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You mean the best battle strategy you thought of in that moment was to put away your weapons and face the demon head on?" Trevelyan pressed.

By now, Gale had taken notice of their conversation and drifted closer to the Arisen. Whether she'd called him or he thought the Inquisitor was something to protect her from, Trevelyan couldn't decide.

"'Twas bound, and a former spirit," Marnie supplied sadly. "Perhaps an Arisen comforted it. I don't know. But I'm not a familiar of such things."

Now Trevelyan realized she was afraid of being misunderstood. Trevelyan didn't doubt the danger she'd be in if she did such a thing in Gransys. The few stories Gale had told them about people being wrongly persecuted for witchcraft was enough to give him that insight.

"That makes sense, actually," Trevelyan said casually. "Well, it seems being the Arisen isn't all bad after all."

Marnie gave a pained grimace of a smile, feeling thoroughly patronized. But at least she wasn't in fear of being called a witch anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been gone for so long! I've been pretty motivated, but I've been having some health issues that actually landed me in the ER right before Christmas (nothing serious; just an autoimmune flare). I've also been taking all sorts of medication off and on, so I'm sorry if this chapter reads a bit "different." Admittedly, everything I write just feels a little off. In the end, I figured posting a subpar chapter for the sake of progress is better than no chapter at all, and I might edit in a few months if I think it'll fix the "inconsistently medicated Vibes" issue. Anyway, excuse my venting, thanks for sticking with me this far, and I hope you liked the chapter.


	16. A/N: The Rest of the Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve given a lot of thought to this, but I’ve decided to drop this fic. I’m not out of ideas, but it turns out retelling the entire last 2/3rds of the game WITH original quests was too much of an undertaking for me. That combined with my surprising distaste with elements of Dragon Age and issues with the fandom just made it a project that I have no interest in continuing at this time.
> 
> It’s not fair to keep my readers in the dark, even if I *do* plan to get back to it someday. So I’m going to give a heavily abridged but general summary of how The Heartless DLC would’ve continued and ended right here, just so you get the full story instead of me leaving you hanging.

**After the events at Adamant** , the Inquisitor and Arisen ltake care of some side-quests, favor quests, and cleaning up some areas whilst also preparing for the ball at Halamshiral. As stated previously, the Arisen and Gale will be going on their own, not under the Inquisition. Once there, the Inquisitor searches for clues, and the Arisen very quickly realizes that there are pawns serving at the ball. Gale pretends to faint, which allows him and the Arisen to be temporarily excused while the pawns take them to the servant’s quarters.

Once in the privacy of the servant’s quarters, the pawns give Marnie an urgent update about the state of things in Gransys. The Duke wasn’t ill, he was trying to keep her away. Nothing particularly heinous is unfolding, but the pawns are worried the Arisen has abandoned them. Marnie assures them that she’ll return, but before they resolve the issue, the harlequin drops in and tries to murder them.

Cut back to the Inquisition. The Inquisitor finally finds some clues and escapes to the servants quarters with his companions. By the time they get there, Marnie and the pawns are nowhere to be found and everyone else is slaughtered. They briefly have a moment of “oh, so I guess we might have to consider Marnie did this” and move on. They find Marnie and the pawns engaged in battle in the courtyard, and the two groups converge for the rest of the quest. They discover the pawns have been traveling to and from Gransys by a Riftstone they brought overseas with them. This Riftstone is later transported to a grove closer to Skyhold for ease of access to the Pawn Guild. It might be noted that Marnie is the one who finds and unlocks the Empress halla door, mostly because her pawns were collecting whatever they could find already. She has Gale interrogate the man for her, then she brings the information to the Inquisitor. The empress is spared, Florianne is arrested, and the Inquisitor has enough evidence to ally all three parties.

Now that there’s a Riftstone at Skyhold, Gale is going out at night on jobs in other worlds. More pawns begin to frequent Skyhold. They don’t blend in well, but the Arisen is able to explain it away as if the Duke sent over members of his elite army, of which the Arisen is a commander. No one ever suspect she had _that_ kind of station. The pawns all seem moderately wary of Solas, but decide he won’t pull anything in Skyhold around the Arisen, for whatever reason. Gale has the most influence over the other pawns aside from the Arisen because he is the main pawn in this universe. That puts him at a high position, even though he may be younger than many pawns he meets.

Gale still goes to Solas frequently. Their meetings range from Gale asking for help with spells to discussing the Inquisition and the Arisen. Solas starts asking Gale to keep their meetings a secret from the Arisen (red flag!). Meanwhile, Cole and Marnie settle their differences; Marnie says she was never upset with Cole to begin with, and they both make a point to be more objective and communicative with each other. Marnie resumes training Cole and gifts him a pair of climbing boots with spikes on the bottoms (shout out to RavenNox on fanfiction.net for mentioning the strider concept art in a review, because I hadn’t seen it before!).

 **After Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts** , the Inquisitor decides to finally get in a good dragon hunt like I’ve been teasing. This is a long-ish “Dragonhunt Arc,” and it’s what I’d imagine Marnie’s main favor quest would be if this was a real DLC. They go to the Hinterlands to fight the Fereldan Frostback, (I know, I should be writing them getting back at that _damn dragon in Crestwood_ , but I haven’t written anything in the Hinterlands yet, and I wanna get to it). There’s an epic battle where the Inquisition FINALLY gets to see more of that dynamic climbing from Marnie and Cole. Gale also shows some creative use of healing spells by preemptively casting healing spells while Marnie is in danger, then she’ll heal as soon as she’s injured and it’ll spare her, (Gale actually did stuff like this with consumable curatives while I was fighting the Ur-Dragon quite a few times, so I wanted to implement it).

At the end of the battle, the Arisen realizes that dragons are just animals here, as opposed to intelligent, self-possessed beings like in Gransys. Therefore, the only real “reason” she came to Thedas was a bust. She’s noticeably sullen and distraught for several days, and Gale begins to worry. Eventually, Gale reaches out to the Inner Circle for help, and they arrange a quiet evening in the yard where she and Gale could dress fancy and slow-dance because it was the one thing she wanted to do at Halamshiral and couldn’t do. There’s this vague internal monologue about how she never gets to keep what she loves, and it’s implied she only truly loves Gale, and it’s also a subtle reminder that she’s a fucking god, but anyway.

 **After the Dragonhunt Arc,** I get back to the main quest, except I kind of don’t, because I want things to be more dramatic. They chip away at some favor quests, and oddly enough, Gale and the Arisen start to drift apart. This is due to several factors including but not limited to Marnie being preoccupied with other pawns and Inquisition-related duties, but it’s also largely because of a concentrated effort on several people’s part to get Gale to assert himself as an individual human as opposed to a pawn defined by his Arisen.

When they go to the Temple of Mythal, Marnie and Gale can barely keep themselves together. The group manages to complete the quest regardless. They ally with Abelas and Morrigan drinks from the Well of Sorrows. 

When they face off against Corypheus, Marnie uses the Backfire skill when fighting the red lyrium dragon to ensure it dies. In that moment, a part of her is frighteningly powerful, almost like she is no longer human. (God this stuff sounds corny.) She passes out for a minute and Gale stays with her while she recovers and the others go to fight Corypheus. Corypheus probably delivers a villainous monologue. I was originally going to have Marnie and Gale bust in and at the part where Corypheus says "ancient ones, if you've ever been there, be with me now," Marnie says "I am one" but I decided against it. The Inquisitor lands the killing blow because this is his quest and his game.

During the afterparty, the Arisen and Gale interact with each member of the inner circle with the news that they'd be leaving for Gransys in the morning. Neither are drinking and they're both dressed as if they're going to leave any minute.

When Marnie and Gale are setting off, Cole comes to Marnie one last time and tells her she never will be alone. That reassures her and, for the time being, she seems ready to confront Grigori upon her return to Gransys.

When Marnie and Gale return for the Tresspasser DLC, they still haven't killed Grigori, but they did go to Bitterblack Isle. As such, their gear is dope and dragonforged, and their mental health is in shambles. Gale also converted to the way of the bow while they were there. They aid the Inquisition in fighting Qunari and finding Solas, and he and Marnie have a final showdown where he's revealed to be the Dread Wolf and she's revealed to be the Seneschel who reset the world so she could relive being the Arisen again and again. Solas needles her about why she redid everything, why she refuses to assume her place as Seneschel, and how many times she's done this same thing over and over again. Gale manages to shoot Solas from afar and they're all driven apart.

After the Inquisition returns to Skyhold and orients themselves, only Gale reappears saying his Arisen sent him in case they meant her any harm after her reveal. After the Inquisitor agrees not to compromise Marnie, Gale leads him to the ruins by the Riftstone, where Marnie's been waiting. They have a chat about her true origins and intentions, and she admits she didn't defeat Grigori because she knew she'd have to leave the mortal world soon after. She agrees to help the Inquisition when she can and places a Portcrystal by the Riftstone. They both agree that things are probably going to get a whole lot worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's where the fic ends. There's also a number of subplots I neglected to detail. Cole's favor quest, a few side quests related to the pawn guild, etc. As I said, I might return to the fic later on, but I really don't care for it or the fandom or the source material anymore. It's sad, but I'm happier elsewhere. And I thought it was only fair to leave some conclusion to the fic regardless. I might post certain chapters and snipets on my tumblr, but for the most part, this is the last you'll see of the official fic.
> 
> Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the readers and fans that have stuck with me through all this. I wish you all the best, and I'm sorry I couldn't give you the full fic. Stay safe out there!


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